Herwald von Einzbern and the Philosopher's Stone
by kyugan
Summary: The 5th Heaven's Feel has been averted, with no apparent victor, but for Herwald von Einzbern, recently turned eleven, a whole new adventure is about to begin in a world he left behind ten years prior. AU cross, rated T for occasional german cursing.
1. Prologue: Prelude to Zero

Alright, let's get this show on the road.

For those of you wondering why THIs one's out and not some ofmy other ones, it's because the Harry Potter books are pretty much a linear plot that's already concluded. As such for someone like m,e, that likes t follow the source material as closely as possible, it's relatively easy to get everything together quicker.

Rest assured, I'm still working on my other works. Just clearing some brain space.

This one's a little long, but serves as a backstory to prior events, so run with it. If it borrows from the Fate/Zero prologue this was intentional, but i tried to avoid complete quotes for obvious reasons.

That said, on with the show!

* * *

Prologue: Ten Years Ago.

Let us tell the story of a certain man. The tale of a man who, more than anyone else, believed in his ideals, and yet was driven to despair by them.

The man's dream was pure, he wished for everyone in this world to be happy, a childish ideal that all young boys grow attached to at least once, one that they abandon when they grow accustomed to the mercilessness of reality, for any happiness requires a sacrifice, something all children learn when they become adults.

Emiya Kiritsugu was not like most adults.

Some would claim he was simply the most foolish of all, others that something fundamental within him was broken. In a bygone era, he may have called a 'Saint', entrusted with God's will to pass on to the common people.

Those people would certainly take offence to their so-called 'saint' killing people as remorselessly as Kiritsugu did.

It wasn't a profession that he took pride in, ever since he'd taken his first life, that of his heretical father, whose research in vampirism had not only disgraced the entire Emiya family, but had led to countless innocents, including one of Kiritsugu's childhood friends, being changed into one of the damned undead.

To be fair, Kiritsugu had more than avenged his line by killing the old man, an act that felt more vindicating than any other to date, but it didn't change the fact that from that moment, the moment he'd stood over his father's dead form, the pistol he'd swiped smoking in his hand, that his fate was set.

Fortunately, he hadn't been alone at that moment, or he may very well have turned the smoking barrel on himself. Natalia had been one of the many Enforcers sent by the Magus Association to deal with his father, who he later learned had received an infamous Sealing Designation for his illegal research. The woman had taken him in, giving him a home, and finally training him up to be a Freelancer, handling all the 'Dirty' jobs that the Church and the Mages Association didn't want to dip their fingers in, OFFICIALLY that is.

Despite only receiving 20% of his family's Thaumaturgical Crest, little more than the dregs really, Natalia had seen fit to train him to the best of her ability, focusing not only on his Magecraft, but other, more practical areas, such as tracking, assassination, and the handling, use and maintenance of all types of weaponry, ranging from firearms, explosives, even cyber warfare.

It was hardly what one could call an ideal childhood, but then the life of an apprentice is rarely pleasant, no matter WHAT profession they aspired themselves to be. However, strange as it was, he HAD been happy, Natalia had been more than just a mentor to him, she'd been the closest thing he'd ever had to a mother, a fact he'd been sure to tell her, even as he pressed the firing switch of the anti-aircraft gun that shot her, and the Airbus A300 jumbo jet she was trapped on with a Dead Apostle and his undead minions, out of the air.

Sure, in shooting the plane down, he'd saved countless millions of lives, but from that moment on he'd become disillusioned with his once iron-clad ideal of becoming a 'hero of justice', It was simply beyond mortal capabilities to save a person without sacrificing another, not even Magic could change that.

Despite being disillusioned, however, he'd pressed on, continuing to fight for a dream he KNEW was unattainable, refusing to surrender, as failure to do otherwise would mean everything he had given up, everything he had strived for, would have been in vain.

And so he kept killing and killing, tracking down those Mages that would abuse their gifts, those criminals that were so adept at covering their tracks not even the Enforcers or Executors from the Church could ferret them out without drawing attention to their respective organizations. He'd gotten so good at it that the Magus Association had gone so far to brand him a Magus Killer, a title which would've traditionally marked him for execution, were it not for the fact he as simply too useful to both them, and the Church's various 'disposal' branches to do away with. There was always a job too 'dirty' for them that could be dealt with by hiring and a hit man, and this way none of their OWN precious Enforcers need sully their hands.

Kiritsugu could've cared less, it simply meant he had access to better resources when it came to tracking down those that would misuse their gifts, it was simply a more efficient way to abate the grief in this world. It was ironic really, to save even one life, he would need to forsake, perhaps even END, another, for every person he saved, he found himself having to kill a smaller number of people.

He'd dyed his hands in blood so many times, never once flinching, never questioning the righteousness of his acts, nor ever doubting his goal, forcing himself to endlessly, faultlessly tip the scale, never misjudging the value of a life.

With no regard to the humility of one existence, and with no regard to its age, all lives were weighed evenly, without discrimination. This was how he saved lives, and also how he took them.

Or at least, that was how he wished to be, a soul-less, measuring machine, devoid of blood and tears, that was capable of finding value in everything with equal fairness, without loving anyone uniquely. But he found that any smile directed at him would fill his chest with pride, whole their wails and tears would make the foundations of his heart rock. Anger and resentment would make him question his judgments, many a time he'd shed tears at the unfairness of it all, how the loneliness had made him yearn for a single outstretched hand.

Around Eleven years ago, give or take the odd month, he had been hired by the von Einzbern family, an ancient Germanic Family of Mages that were renowned for their interest in one of the lost 'True' Magics, which they'd tenuously dubbed 'Heaven's Feel'.

He didn't know the specifics of it all; no true Magus would willingly divulge the secrets of their work, certainly not to an unaffiliated outsider, and a Magus Killer no less. All he knew was that every 60 years, a tournament was fought in a small city in his homeland of japan, between chosen Magi and summoned 'Heroic Spirits', all to gain control of the prize, the vaunted 'Holy Grail', which while not the original article, was just as valued, as it allowed the winner to lay claim to whatever wish they desired. ANY wish at all.

If he was to believe Einzbern's hype, the old man could care less about the wish itself, and was only really interested in winning the Grail. An understandable sentiment really, for despite being the ones to SUGGEST the tournament, and arguable the founders of it, the Einzbern's had never won a Grail War since the founding over 180 years prior.

This suited Kiritsugu just fine, the Magus Killer would be more than happy to use such a powerful force in their stead, hell the moment he heard of the Grails Powers he'd been sold, seeing it as a chance to bring about World Peace, allowing him to become a TRUE hero of Justice. And all he had to do was enter as a 'Master', whilst protecting the 'True' Einzbern participant.

It was then that he'd been introduced to Irisviel.

From the moment he'd laid eyes on her, Kiritsugu could tell the beautiful woman wasn't human. No mere mortal could have skin so fair, hair so white, eyes so red, like two glittering rubies in the snow. Were it not for her lack of wings and a halo, and his complete lack of faith in some higher power, Kiritsugu would have sworn there and then she was an angel.

He didn't know what particular role Irisviel played a key role in the proceedings, simply that she was important to the War, and that protecting her was one of the reasons he'd been brought in to 'stack the odds', as it were, in the Einzbern's favor.

Kiritsugu could've cared less for their reasoning, all he knew was that he loved the beautiful snow fairy that made every second he spent in that dark, frozen castle worth living.

It was Irisviel that taught him he was capable of love. Ironic that a Homunculus, a doll created from magic and alchemy, should be the one to remind him of what it meant to be a man, but it was a lesson he deeply desired, one that he would reaffirm again, and again, numerous times, savoring her company, just as she, in turn, savored his.

And then, Eight years ago, Irisviel had given birth to a child, THEIR Child.

It was a rarity, an event that had never been chronicled in the history of the Einzbern family. Homunculi, particularly those created by the family, were not created with reproductive capabilities, by all rights Irisviel shouldn't have even been able to conceive a child, let alone carry it to term. Yet she had, and Kiritsugu now found himself in the position many a man both eagerly awaited and dreaded to find themselves in: A Parent.

How should he act around this small, fragile life? How could he dare to sully her beautiful innocence with his stained, bloody hands? Were it not for Irisviel, Kiritsugu doubted he'd have had the courage to even HOLD his infant daughter the first time he'd laid eyes on her, by all rights he didn't deserve to.

But then the infant girl opened her eyes, the same beautiful red eyes she shared with her mother, and stared at him with such innocence and wonder, and Kiritsugu could not help but weep for joy.

That had been eight years ago, Illyasviel was no longer an infant, but the love she felt for her parents, and the love they felt for HER, had not changed from the moment Kiritsugu first held her in his arms, and that fact terrified him to his core.

Kiritsugu was no fool, he knew for sure that he'd committed far too many sins, burned far too many bridges, to delude himself with the delusion that such a life would be forever. Sooner or later the Magus Association would make a move on him, and he harbored no delusions as to whether or not the Einzbern's would come to his aid if it happened AFTER the Grail War. There was nothing for him to do but WIN the damned thing, win, and then wish for a world where Illyasviel could grow up without having to worry about the evils of Human kind.

He'd already summoned his 'Servant', Saber, using one of Einzbern's most coveted relics, the holy sheath Avalon. It had been their intention for him to summon a Saber class servant, regarded as the strongest combat Servant of the three Knight classes, personally, Kiritsugu would have preferred to summon a Caster or Assassin class, as they were more in line with his style of combat, but he had to agree with the old man on this one. If you wanted something, get the best, and who better to assume the role of Saber than the King of Knights, the Greatest King of Britain, said to be the embodiment of a Dragon?

So naturally, you could imagine the group reaction when a small, slip of a girl, albeit one dressed in armour over her blue and white dress, appeared in the summoning array.

Not wanting to grow attached, Kiritsugu had refused to speak to her, refused to LOOK at her, in all honesty, he treated the Heroic Spirit as if she'd never been summoned. So far as he was concerned, she was a weapon, and only an insane man speaks to his weapon.

In any case, it was for the greater good that the two of them didn't interact, as Kiritsugu highly doubted a noble warrior like King Arthur, or Arturia as she was apparently called, would approve of his usual modus operandi, namely sneaking around in the dark, killing his targets with extreme, often overly so, prejudice, much like his most recent job.

It was several weeks after he'd summoned Sabre when he was contacted by the Mages Association regarding a suspected Magus with a Sealing Designation hiding out in a small suburban area in Surrey. Now normally he would have told them he was already under contract with the Einzbern's and refused, however he'd accepted, and had booked the first flight over to England to carry out the hit.

There were a number of reasons for this, the most important being that, by accepting the job, he basically gave himself an alibi of not being anywhere NEAR the Einzberns, meaning he could waylay any suspicions as to his role in the upcoming war.

Of course it didn't help that the target was a noted child molester whose research into immortality had involved kidnaped children. Grail War or not there was no way in hell Kiritsugu was letting someone else after the monster and risk him scuttling off into the night.

* * *

Kiritsugu stood over the corpse of his target, watching with passionless eyes for any sign that the bastard had survived, as unlikely as it was, not many people can survive taking a .30-06 rifle bullet to the chest, never mind one of his patented 'Origin Bullets', designed to turn the magic circuits of the target against them, but as a Freelancer he knew all too well that just because you killed something, that didn't mean it was dead. A fine example would be Dead Apostles, or even better, the True Ancestors, though to his knowledge the latter were nigh extinct with the exception of their princess, and nobody had a damn clue where SHE was.

In any case, it didn't seemed this particular Magus had been particularly successful in his attempts at Immortality, which meant all Kiritsugu had to do was send a quick call to the Magus Association, have them Wire his pay to his account, then pretend to take a holiday whilst instead booking a plane back to Germany, knowing how backwards the Association was when it came to technology, they'd simply assume he decided to stick around to enjoy a nice little holiday in Britain.

'In November? Not likely.' He muttered, snorting dismissively as he crouched down to check the corpse's pulse, never can be too certain after all, only to reaffirm that the target was indeed dead as a doornail when he felt a slight tingle wash over him as the bounded field the monster had placed over the house drop with its master's death.

Getting to his feet with a sigh, the Magus Killer was considering using the bastard's phone to contact his employee when he felt the slight disturbance in the air that usually accompanied an Apparition. Backing up against the wall, he peered, cautiously, out the window, which he noted with approval granted a good view of the entire drive, his eyes narrowing as he espied the man that had appeared at the corner of the street, dressed in an outfit that looked like it had gone out of style when MERLIN was young.

He was tall, thin, and judging by the length of his silvery hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt, VERY old. While most Magi were a little out-dated when it came to clothing, preferring the styles that were popular when their forebears were young, this elderly fellow went the extra mile by wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. 'Okay..' he muttered, unable to help the bead of sweat that dripped from his brow as he gaped at the elderly man in disbelief 'And here I thought old man Einzbern was old-fashioned…compared to this loony those ruffled shirts of his might as well be the latest trend.

Of course he knew who the old codger was, you didn't live long in this line of work without developing a veritable 'rogues gallery', or without bumping shoulders with several important figures. Either way, there was no mistaking those twinkling blue eyes, or the nose that lay beneath them, which had been broken twice by the look of it, one of which he knew for a FACT had been the result of a 'disagreement' between the man and old man Acht, a fact the Einsbern head was rather fond of recalling.

'Albus Dumbledore.' Kiritsugu muttered, relaxing his stance slightly, though he didn't relax his grip on grip on the Thompson-Contender, keeping his Mystic Code ready for any eventuality, watching with suspicion as the twinkle-eyed bastard, as old man Acht was so fond of calling him, pulled a silver cigarette lighter out from his robes, pausing only to chukle in the direction of a suspicious looking cat, which Kiritsugu had noticed watching the house next door earlier while he waited for his target to come home.

Flicking the device open, the aged wizard held it in the air and clicked it, causing the nearest street lamp went out with a pop. He repeated this process twelve times, bathing the street in darkness save for the two pinpricks of light which belonged to the cat, which Kiritsugu could only make out thanks to his night-vision, gained through his chosen profession, and by reinforcing his vision to see in the dark, his eyes narrowing further as the tabby shifted into a tall, severe looking woman with square-rimmed spectacles, dressed almost identically to the wizard, save her cloak was emerald in colour, and she wore her black hair in a tight bun at the back of her head.

'British mages…' he muttered, shaking his head in disgust at how anally retentive Sabre's people had become. Despite its long, established history, the British Wizarding world was considered a bit of a joke amongst the international community. The damn fools still went around dressed as if Merlin was still walking around. No self-respecting Mage, or at least one with no pressing desire to be burnt at the stake, would be caught dead in such out dated clothing. It Practically SCREAMED magic. Plus they looked damn hard to run in, and as many of his targets had learned, style and grace can't beat the ability to sprint long distance without tripping over yourself.

'Wonder what they're up to…' he muttered, narrowing his eyes as he reinforced his hearing, allowing himself to listen in on the conversation as the stern-faced woman ranted on.

"…Flocks of owls… shooting stars…Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent." Here she scoffed derisively "I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."

"You can't blame them." Dumbledore soothed, his eyes twinkling in amusement, causing Kiritsugu to understand just why old man Acht had broken the man's nose "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."

Kiritsugu grimaced, knowing all too well what the man was on about. For the past Eleven years, the British Wizarding World had been under threat from a Dark Lord that had been calling himself Voldemort. The man was, quite frankly, mad as a hatter, preaching pure-blood supremacy that the more inbred families lapped up like mother's milk, feeding on paranoia, even going so far as to jinx his own name so that speaking it would allow his minions to track anyone brave enough to say it and wipe them out.

Kiritsugu had actually been hired a number of times to take down a few of his more…interesting colleagues, but generally hadn't gotten involved with the effort to defeat the little tit. For one thing, it was a British affair, which meant it fell within the jurisdiction of the Clock Tower, for another, the Dark Lord had wisely decided to avoid mainland Europe, or indeed ANY of the Magical countries outside the British Isles, who'd learned their lessons from Grindlewald and weren't about to let some upstart with fresh ideas try his luck.

Kiritsugu had been out of the loop for a while thanks to his preparations for the Fourth Heaven's Feel, but from last he'd heard the war with Voldemort had been going rather badly. It was quite a surprise to hear the little tit was GONE.

"The owls are nothing next to the _rumours _that are flying around." The woman, a McGonagall apparently, pointed out, sending Dumbledore a sharp look as he sucked away at a lemon drop "You know what they're saying? About WHY he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"

Kiritsugu couldn't help it, he felt his ears prick up and his shoulders tense as he leant against the wall, listening eagerly for the latest news. It might be old-news by now, especially if the locals were celebrating so vehemently, but as any Freelancer worth their Mystic Code knew, knowledge was power, and knowledge about the fate of a Dark Lord could fetch a high price.

"What they're _saying_," McGonagall pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumour is that Lily and James Potter are…that they're _dead_." She gasped at Dumbledore's bowed head "Lily and James…I can't believe it…I didn't want to believe it…Oh, Albus…"

Kiritsugu suppressed the urge to scowl at the woman, it would serve no purpose and giving way to emotion was a good way to blow your cover. Nonetheless, having to wait for her to compose herself was trying is patience. "That's not all." She continued, voice trembling "They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's son, Harry. But he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke, and that's why he's gone."

* * *

Now Kiritsugu had to blink, this time, however, it was from actual surprise. From what he'd heard, this Voldemort bastard was supposed to be the biggest menace since Grindlewald, who was no pushover himself. Old man Acht had even gone so far to praise some of his more notable exploits, though he knew first-hand the old man would sooner DIE than let the little prick set one foot on mainland soil.

To find out the man had been offed by a child, a year-old babe in arms at that, was a shocker, though it still didn't explain why two wizards were sitting out in the open, albeit at night, in a decidedly MUNDANE part of Britain. Other than his target, there wasn't a single magical resident, a question which McGonagall soon posed, much to his relief, only to react violently, to say the least, when Dumbledore admitted he was intending to deliver the toddler to his relatives.

"You _can't _mean the people who live _here_?" the woman exclaimed, literally jumping to her feet, back arched like a startled cat as she pointed an accusing finger at the house next door "Albus you can't! I've been watching them all day, you couldn't find two people who are less like us." Her face marred with disgust "And they've got this son, I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets! Harry Potter, come to live HERE?"

"It's the best place for him," said Dumbledore firmly. "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."

'Oh yeah, like THAT'LL go down well.' Kiritsugu muttered, once again supressing the urge to snort as he eyed the old coot with a new look in his eyes, the one he reserved for people that were clearly off their rocker, a sentiment that McGonagall apparently shared with the old coot, though he managed to calm her down after a few grandfatherly words, Kiritsugu figuring he might as well ignore the rest of the conversation, only for a low rumbling sound to break the otherwise silence of the darkened street, growing steadily louder, the Magus Hunter's eyes widening as a huge motorcycle, ridden by an even LARGER man, fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.

'Holy Shit, its Namahage!' the Magus hunter exclaimed, unable to help the slight jolt as he eyed the massive, bearded figure riding the equally monstrous bike. The brute was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide, with a veritable mane of bushy black hair and beard which hid most of his face, he had hands the size of trash can lids, and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. Were it not for the small bundle of blankets in his arms, Kiritsugu would have sworn it was indeed the infamous, child-eating ogre of his native land come to life.

He was roused from his thoughts courtesy of the giant man, who loosed a howl not unlike a wounded dog, prompting McGonagall to hiss at him, for fear of waking the locals. He watched, with a hint of wonderment, as Dumbledore stepped up to the threshold, baby saviour in his arms, no doubt intending to rouse his target's neighbours, hand their nephew over and be done with it, only for his eyes to widen in shock as the old man laid the bundle gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside the toddler's blankets, and then marched back to the other two, the giant man riding off on his motorbike and McGonagall slinking off as a cat, Dumbledore pausing only to restore the street lamps to normal, before turning on his heel and vanishing with a swirl of his cloak.

'Wait…the hell?' Kiritsugu exclaimed, the infamous Magus Killer unable to believe what he'd just seen with his own two eyes. It simply defied reason, what kind of irresponsible adults would just abandon a BABY on a doorstep in the middle of November? True it wasn't particular cold tonight, even for a British winter, but all the kid had to his name was a blanket, not even a basket to ward off the worst of the chill, just a letter from a doddering old man that couldn't be arsed to make sure the kid was in his relatives care before apparating off to get pissed or whatever term the British used for drinking themselves under the table.

'Unbelievable…' he muttered, shaking his head in disgust, even as he finally tucked his Mystic Code away, resisting the urge to fire a few rounds into the corpse on the floor, as it'd be a waste of ammo and without the Bounded Field the noise would alert the Neighbours "Kid basically hauls their asses out of the fire and they turn round and dump him on his Mundane relatives?"

Truth be told, Kiritsugu had done his research prior to making the hit, and knew first hand the kind of people that lived on the man's street. They were all boring, normal people that lived boring, normal lives and went out of their way to hate anything that opposed their perfect, boring little world. The ones living next door were the worst, the Husband was a large, walrus like man with no neck, his wife a skinny, giraffe-like horror that liked to spy on her neighbours, and they'd somehow spawned a brat that resembled a pig in a wig, and all three of them reacted violently to anything that wasn't as 'normal' as them.

'Either he'll freeze to death out here or he'll be shoved in a closet the minute he's in there.' Kiritsugu muttered, marching out the door, making sure to leave no trace of his presence, before marching up to Number 4, scooping up the little bundle, intent on taking him to the proper authorities, only to freeze as the baby stirred, looking down just as the little eyes opened, causing him to gaze into twin pools of dazzling emerald.

Time seemed to stop, a feeling Kiritsugu was all too familiar with, considering his branch of magic, the Magus Killer gazing into the infant eyes of the child who, even know, was going down in History as 'The Boy Who Lived', taking in the small, pale face, topped with a tuft of jet-black hair, beneath which rested a curiously shaped scar, like a bolt of lightning.

Then the moment passed, the emerald eyes closed, and the year-old baby settled back to sleep, apparently comforted by the man's presence.

Kiritsugu stood in silence for a moment, lost in wonderment at what he'd just experienced, looking from the baby to the letter and the door to number 4 Privet drive, before scowling, his dark eyes like thunderclouds in the night.

'To hell with it.' He muttered, taking the letter from Dumbledore and shoving it in his pocket, making a mental note to have old man Acht check it for traps even as he marched away from the house and down the street to where he'd hidden his car 'He deserves better than this…and Irisviel DID say she'd like to give Ilya some siblings…'

Throughout it all, Harry James Potter simply rolled over in his blankets and slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, unaware that he'd been spared a lifetime of abuse and ridicule at the hands of his Aunt's family, while people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses in his name.

He simply slept on, safe in the arms of one of the deadliest men on the planet, unaware of the change that had been made in his destiny.

* * *

Well, there we go. Again, apologies for the length, backstory is hard to summarize.

For those of you out that saw the preview chapter, you probably already know what's going to happen next. No i WON't be flahing back to the Grail war, it'll skip straight to the actual story which you read already in the preview.

As you can see, Jubstacheit REALLY doesn't like Dumbles, and is persoally responsible for the two times the old twinkler's nose has been broken in the past. A fact that gives him IMMENSE satisfaction.

Seeing the chance to pull one over on the 'twinkle-eyed schweinhund', as he 'affectionately' refers to Dumbles, he took in the 'boy who lived', brought him up as a means of controlling Illyasviel, and then turned him into a living 'Weapon' in order to seize the 5th Heaven's feel, which, as we all know, didn't quite fall through.

Again, for those who DIDN'T read the preview chapter, Harry will NOT be God Mode in this, Alchemy has it's limitations, though his Array negates the most important of them, the need of transmutation circles. He WILL, however, be entering into the Wizarding World with a better understanding of what he's capable off, so don't expect him to be dragged around by the shorthairs.

I'm debating putting him in Slytherin or Ravenclaw, for the simple fact that, as a result of his upbringing, he's unsuited for Gryffindor or Hufflepuff. Truth be told, I'm leaning more towards Slytherin, as the Einzberns have a bit of a reputation of being 'dark' wizards, though not necesarrily EVIL.

Pairings are undecided at the moment, as I'm hesitant to remove anyone from Shirou's Harem, which canonically includes Rin, Saber (Who will be making a reappearance later on), Sakura, Rider (proven in Hollow Attraxia), Illyasviel (She's EIGHTEEN PEOPLE!) and quite possibly Taiga (she's possessive enough, though i may pair her with Sirius later for the sheer crack potential). I may also introduce Rider's sisters, Stheno and Euryale, later, as well as Mordred, Arturia's 'son', though this is undecided as of yet.

Other than that, the story will follow the basic plot as the books, and may cross with Tsukihime later, depending on the flow.

Like it? Hate it? Review to let me know!


	2. Chapter 1: Herwald

Alright, let's get this show on the road.

Most of ytou've already seen this chapter, but bear with me alright? Don't spoil it for the others.

Rest assured, I'm still working on my other works. Just clearing some brain space.

This one's a little long, but serves as a backstory to prior events, so run with it. If it borrows from the Fate/Zero prologue this was intentional, but i tried to avoid complete quotes for obvious reasons.

That said, on with the show!

* * *

Heaven's Feel.

Herwald von Einzbern sighed as he woke, rubbing the strains of sunlight out of his eyes with a groggy hand, even as he reached for the glasses which adorned his bedside cabinet.

"Happy Birthday, Herwald-kun." A gentle voice called out, the dark haired boy looking up just as the door to the room opened, revealing a plum-haired teenager of Japanese descent, dressed in a pink sweater over a blouse and skirt "How's it feel to be Eleven?"

"Guten Morgen, Sakura-san." The bespectacled youth yawned, covering his mouth politely as he did so, wincing as the plum haired young oman stepped forward to open the curtains of his rooom, letting the morning sunlight in "Is sister awake?"

"Ilya-chan is with Fujimura-sensei right now." The plum haired girl replied, smiling cordially at the youth, even as the sounds of screams filled the air, only partially covered by the revving of a motorcycle engine "They're testing out her new scooter."

"Gott im Himmel…" Herwald muttered, suppressing the urge to groan as he palmed his face, swinging his feet out from under the thick duvet and into the slippers he placed carefully at his bedside, turning to fix the bed sheets while Sakura tided around the room.

At almost Eleven years old, standing just under four foot, and with a lean, wiry build, the young Einsbern was hardly what one would consider an impressive looking specimen of a magus, lacking the hereditary swarthy build of the Einzbern males, or the willow grace of their females, though the latter was generally mediated towards the Homunculi the family were famous for producing.

Then again, the boy really shouldn't have expected either, after all he was, as most of the family were so fond of reminding him, a 'stray' that had been dumped into their lap by his adoptive father, right before the man had gone off to get himself killed.

According to rumour, the man had found him abandoned on the street, and brought him in to be raised along with his own daughter, Illyasviel, who had turned eight that same year. Herwald had no recollection of the man, understandable really, he'd only been a year old when he'd been brought to the Ancestral Einzbern home in the dark forests of Germany, but the few, scattered memories he retained depicted a kind, if saddened face, framed by messy black hair, far worse than even his own, and a prevailing smell of cigarette smoke.

From what little he'd learned, thanks to overhearing the chatter of the less guarded family members, Kiritsugu had betrayed the Einsbern family and run off for fear of his life, an act which usually resulted in execution. This was compounded by the fact the man was NEVER spoken of publically, and that there were no images of him in the castle, save for a sole, family photograph of him that belonged to Illyasviel, which depicted Kiritsugu standing behind her mother, Irisviel, who was seated with an infant Illyasviel in her lap.

Herwald had a marginally better memory of Irisviel, mainly because, prior to her departure and death, he had spent many hours in her company, and there were still portraits of her in Illyasviel's room, despite strong sentiment that they be taken down from the rest of the family. Illyasviel had put her foot down on the matter, an action that was backed up by Grandfather Jubstacheit, the old man making it abundantly clear that NOTHING was to interfere with Illyasviel's development, and that failure to comply would result in banishment…or worse.

And so the motion was dropped, and the young Homunculus was allowed to do as she pleased, though this naturally meant that the resentful members were forced to find a new vent for their frustrations, and so they turned on Herwald.

Perhaps 'turned' is a bit unfair a term, as it wasn't as if the Einzbern's treated him poorly. As one of the premiere Magus families, they had a reputation to uphold, and blaming a child for the actions of his parent, his ADOPTIVE parent no less, was simply not something they were willing to waste time on, time that would be better spent trying to find ways to uncover Akasha, the Root of all things, which many a Magus aspired themselves to.

And so Herwald was tolerated, at best, by the majority of the family, at the very least they ignored him, or refused to offer him support with his studies, citing if he couldn't stand on his own two feet, he didn't deserve any support. The only exceptions to this rule were the Castle's Homunculi, all female, who doted on the boy to the point the considered him one of their own, Grandfather Jubstacheit, who apparently saw some potential in him that the others refused to acknowledge, at least enough to ensure that the boy's training as a Magus wasn't completely disregarded, and of course, his elder step-sibling, Illyasviel.

His earliest memories of the girl was of her staring down at him as he lay in the crib she herself had once occupied, her crimson eyes filled with wonder, a kind smile on her face as she reached down to touch him, only for him to seize her finger with his pudgy little hand. Even after her parents had died, leaving her alone in the cold mansion, surrounded by unsympathetic relatives, the little Homunculus went out of her way to interact with the boy, occasionally helping him with his studies, but generally seeking him out solely for his company. Herwald, in turn, did what he could for her, whether it simply involved brushing her luxurious white hair, playing with her in the garden, cuddling next to her at night whenever neither could stand to be alone, or comforting her whenever her temper would flare at the mention of her abandonment was brought up by some of the younger family members.

Word soon reached them that, prior to dying from whatever wounds had been inflicted upon him during the 4th Grail War, Kiritsugu had adopted a child, a survivor of the resulting disaster that had almost levelled the city where the Wars were established. While Herwald, who had been adopted himself, failed to see the problem with this, Illyasviel had been inconsolable for weeks at the news, believing her father had replaced her, and had barricaded herself in her chambers.

It had taken Herwald weeks of reaching out to her to get his sister to emerge, but when she did she was no longer the innocent snow angel from his memories. She was still there, thankfully, evident in how she would continue to act as she had before, but he could tell there was something fundamentally different about her, a drive, a purpose, that had the terrible majesty of a glacier slowly bearing down on a hapless settlement. She had thrown herself into her studies, intent on preparing herself for the next war, which was scheduled to occur uncharacteristically early this time round. Herwald, not liking the way some of the less tactical members of the Family had reacted to this, had redoubled his OWN efforts as well, even going so far as to BEG Grandfather Jubstacheit to let him help shoulder the burden.

'I really should have seen it coming…' the youth sighed, shaking his head as he pulled his shirt off, staring at his wiry frame in the bedside mirror, not missing the look on Sakura's face, the slight flinch of the older girl's features at the sight of the markings which adorned his back, chest, and both his arms. At first glance, one might confuse the markings for the more traditional Thaumaturgical crests that are typically bestowed upon the heir of a Magus family, this, however, was a deceptive illusion, as Jubstacheit already possessed an heir, one that had survived the countless assassination attempts against them and was already coveting the old man's power.

The markings the boy possessed were, in fact, a complicated combination of the grafting process needed to create a Magus Crest, and a complex alchemical array, a two part system that combined the traditional European theory with the more ascetic methods of their eastern cousins. Admittedly, they worked remarkably similar to a Magus Crest, unsurprising really, since they WERE created from actual Magic Circuits, circuits that had been harvested courtesy of Jubstacheit's heir's 'thinning of the ranks' prior to being named as heir.

Since none of the 'donors' had the time to impart their spell knowledge, all it basically meant was that their untapped circuits were forcibly transferred into Herwald's markings, starting from when he was six, about five years before the 5th grail war, growing increasingly more complex and painful with each passing year, until finally, the markings covered both his arms, back, and the palms of both hands. The pain had been excruciating, like having hot pokers inserted into every nerve in his body. Every day had been a living hell, but Herwald had endured, his own magic, and the knowledge that he was doing this to help Illyasviel, spurring him onwards, until a year later, Jubstacheit had deemed him ready, and began his training.

He'd held no delusions back then, he knew, more than anyone, that Jubstacheit never did anything unless it benefitted him somehow. The old man had NEVER treated him like a member of the family, had only spoken kindly to Illyasviel as a means to control her, to guide her down her path towards winning the next Grail War, a war in which Herwald was to act as her sword and shield, for the Glory of Einzbern.

Herwald could care less about Einzbern, so far as he was concerned, the only 'family' he had within those walls were Illyasviel and the family Homunculi, two of which, Leysritt and Sella, had joined them on that auspicious day when they'd travelled to Fuyuki city to begin the war.

"The water should still be hot." Sakura assured him, smiling comfortingly at the youth, her plum coloured eyes lined with pity and understanding as she held out a towel and a change of clothes "I need to get Sempai up, he fell asleep in the shed again so we can have your party."

Herwald thanked the girl, accepting the proffered clothing and bathing wear before allowing her to leave first, making his way to the bathroom of the Emiya compound, once again marvelling at just how the 5th Grail war had played out.

* * *

_Flashback, Fuyuki city, several months ago... _

'So this is Fuyuki city.' Herwald noted, the adopted Einzbern eyeing the glittering city with a hint of approval that belied the childish wonderment that he couldn't keep from his ten-year-old face 'Bigger than I'd thought.'

He and Illyasviel had arrived earlier that day, using an ancestral portkey to travel to the Einzbern castle estate that lay just outside the city's borders. Let it never be said that the Einzbern forbears never thought ahead, the castle was pretty much a scaled down version of the one they were used to, even the floor layout was the same, though admittedly the rooms were slightly smaller to compensate.

Illyasviel had gone out to see the sights, despite the protests of Leysritt, Sella, and Herwald himself, the former of which insisted there was no need, while Herwald insisted it was too dangerous for her to go alone. Illyasviel had merely smiled, that deceptively childlike smile that never failed to make his heart soar, and assured him that she was fine, that she would be safe, and as much as he'd like to contest the fact, Herwald had to agree that it was highly unlikely that his adoptive sibling would come to an harm, not with HERACLES, of all people, contacted as her Servant.

That didn't stop him from tailing her though, for all his power Heracles was still, through the machinations of Jubstacheit, a Berserker Servant, and he wasn't about to trust his sibling's safety to a mindless animal. "Assassin." He whispered, his emerald eyes never leaving the deceptively small form of his sister as she walked down the street, "Any signs of the other Masters?"

"None, Master." The Servant replied, head bowed in submission as she crouched behind him, in the shadows, as was her preference.

Unlike Illyasviel, who had summoned the Berserker Heracles as her Servant, Herwald had been ordered to summon an Assassin, in order to compliment Heracles lack of Phantasms, as well as limit the selection of the other Masters. Hoever, the incarnation of Hassan-I-Sabbah he had summoned was hardly the 'Old Man of the Mountain' he'd been expecting. Standing at just under six foot, her lithe body coloured an ashen ebony, dressed in skin-tight breeches with a bared midriff, her only other cover being a cloth bikini and her traditional ashen skull mask, Assassin exhibited a deadly grace that would probably have drawn a few looks if her master wasn't a prepubescent.

Herwald had to supress the urge to shiver at the sight of her ashen skull-mask, for some strange reason it just seemed to remind him of something horrible, something EVIL, despite the fact that Assassin had been nothing but obedient to him since day one. "Keep an eye out for now." He ordered, keeping his voice low, lest he draw Berserker's attention, and by proxy Illyasviel's, to his presence, only to pause hesitantly "What about…HIM?"

"Yes," Assassin acknowledged, her head bowing again as she continued to kneel "As you requested, I tracked the boy down and observed him without drawing attention to myself." She looked up, the darkened holes in her mask peering up at him speculatively "He does not appear to be a master, nor much of a Magus if what little I witnessed is any example, though he appears to be associated with the Makiri heir."

Herwald grimaced, an wave f bile rising in the back of his throat that he quickly squashed. The Makiri were one of the Co-founders of the Grail war, along with the Tohsaka Family, who ironically enough OWNED the land Fuyuki was built on, and the Einzberns. It was the work of Makiri that devised the Servant System for the War, who had crafted the Spell Crests needed to control the Epic Heroes, in their bid to help witness the Heaven's Feel. However, the family had fallen in recent years, what with the decline of their ability to produce magical heirs, in fact it was widely speculated that the line would die out within a generation or two.

'Good riddance.' Herwald muttered, shuddering as he recalled what little information Grandfather had bestowed upon him regarding the style of magic currently being employed by the Makiri, who had renamed themselves the 'Matou' in order to alleviate some of their shame at the decline of their bloodline 'Still, the fact he's associated with them is unsettling…perhaps I should let Illyasviel know…'

Even as he said it, he knew that all he would do was incur his sister's anger. Illyasviel had made it clear to everyone that Emiya Shirou was HERS to kill. She would permit no interference, accept no assistance, not even from Herwald, though admittedly, she'd informed him of this in much nicer terms than she had the rest of the family. Having a deranged Demi-God dangle you off the ground while a deceptively young homunculus glared coldly up at you can prove surprisingly effective waylaying further protests.

Still, Ilya's orders or not, while Herwald couldn't TOUCH the boy Kiritsugu had abandoned them for, he could still see what he was like, if only to determine whether or not to leave flowers at his grave when Illyasviel got through with him.

The first thing he'd garnered, from the files that the family had gathered through their spy networks, that the boy was older than him, Seventeen to be exact, a year younger than Illyasviel, though she had stopped aging prematurely and so looked about the same age as Herwald himself. He'd apparently been an orphan Kiritsugu rescued from the fire that had resulted from the man's destruction of the Grail during the previous Grail War.

The second thing he'd garnered, much to his shock, was that the boy had received little or no training as a Magus from Kiritsugu, and despite suspicions, hadn't inherited Kiritsugu's Magus Crest, as the man had apparently been buried with it. Such an act of direct negligence was BLASPHEMOUS in Magus Society, for a Mage to not pass on their knowledge to their offspring was the same as betraying their ancestral line.

In short, Herwald had to wonder if the boy even had it IN him to be selected as a Master, sure he possessed magic circuits, but without the proper training to awaken them, it was like loading a revolver with blanks.

'Better that he DOESN'T become a Master.' The emerald eyed teen muttered, casting a glance towards his sister, who was marvelling at the streetlights as they flickered on 'At least then Illyasviel will have one less reason to hunt him down...'

* * *

_End Flashback..._

But as fate would have it, Emiya Shirou HAD become a Master, the Master of the same Saber servant that had been summoned by their Father Kiritsugu no less. Still, this meant little to Herwald, as despite the fact the teen was now included on the playing field, he was still Illyasviel's 'prey', and far be it for him to get between the hapless, well-meaning failure and their sister's monstrous demigod killing machine. The other masters, on the other hand, were open game, so while Illyasviel went out to 'introduce' herself to their unknowing step-sibling, Herwald began to systematically track down the other Masters along with Assassin, knowing that most of them would be more focussed on his sibling and Heracles.

The first of his targets had been the master of Caster, a common, Magus Association grunt that liked to give himself airs, and apparently had little qualms about using his command seals to force the female Servant into acts of debauchery, Herwald actually stumbling across him in the midst of raping the summoned spirit. The adopted Einzbern hadn't even bothered to conceal his presence at that point, he'd simply stormed in, grabbed the bastard by the face, activated the circuits in his left arm and reduced the man to a lifeless, twitching pile of flesh.

To anyone looking in from the outside, it would have appeared as if the man's body had exploded beneath his skin, in actuality however, Herwald had simply used one of the most fundamental acts of Alchemy, transmutation, to rip the man's body apart from the inside.

Typically, transmutation followed a certain sequence: Comprehension, wherein the user comes to understand the inherent structure and properties of the atomic or molecular makeup of a particular material, including the flow and balance of potential and kinetic energy within; Deconstruction, wherein the user employs their od to break down the physical structure of the identified material into a more malleable state, so as to easily reshape it into a new form through the final stage of Reconstruction.

Normally such a process required the use of complicated transmutation circles, the more complex the intended creation, the more power the runes would need to contain. Herwald's markings, forged from the crafted Circuits of the fallen Einzberns, were some of the most complex in the family's history, a revolutionary alchemy technique that made his entire body, in effect, a portable transmutation circle.

The Markings on his right arm allowed Herwald to initiate the first two steps of the cyclical transmutation process, comprehension and deconstruction, essentially breaking down everything he wished into formless debris. If he wished to reshape the resulting detritus, all he had to do was activate the crest on his LEFT arm, which would complete the cycle, refashioning whatever he touched into whatever he pleased, within limits of course.

Fortunately for the Magus, Human Transmutation was a forbidden art that even the Einzberns refused to touch, outside of medical practice of course, though Herwald could quite frankly care less for the man as he dropped him on the floor, his skin only BARELY holding his ruined body together, the adopted Einzbern turning to face Caser, only to find the Servan had made her escape despite Assassin's best efforts to the contrary.

It had been a stupid, childish mistake, as the primary reason he'd targeted Caster's master first was to either bring her over to their side or finish her off. There was no rule forbidding a master's possessing more than one servant after all, and her scrying abilities would make all the difference if he was to help Illyasviel attain the Grail. With her escape, he would have to be doubly cautious, especially, if her late master's notes were to be believed, considering he was dealing with the Witch of Betrayal, who'd sacrificed her own brother to save her skin.

But what was done was done, he doubted that Caster would be making any big moves on his person anytime soon either, not without a master to back her up. Caster class servants had low mileage when it came to prana, without a master she'd be forced to waste her own reserves just to stay alive, and considering what little he knew of Medea, that didn't amount to much. He'd given her a week at most, and that was being generous, as most Grail wars typically didn't last more than a few days.

* * *

_Present time, Emiya Household..._

'I should have hunted that witch down while I had the chance…' Herwald muttered, scowling to himself at the memory of all the trouble Medea had put them through even as he stepped out of the bathtub, drying himself off and pulling on his trousers quickly, having learned from experience that the occupants of the Emiya house had a bad habit of not checking before barging in 'It would've saved us all so much trouble…'

"Oh, good morning, Herwald-kun." A cool, enticing voice greeted, the younger Einzbern looking up to see a tall, shapely woman standing in the doorway, dressed in blue jeans and a black pullover, her long purple hair trailing down her back, faintly pink eyes visible behind her spectacles "Just finished?"

"Guten Morgen, Rider." Herwald greeted, inclining his head towards Sakura's Servant, used to her presence after staying at the Emiya House for so long "The bath is free."

Rider nodded, smiling slightly as she leaned in, placing a kiss on his cheek, wishing him Happy Birthday before brushing past him towards the bathroom, her teasing smile sending a shiver down his spine despite the warmth of the day.

Herwald's relationship with the purple haired Servant was a little strange, even by most accounts, as the second Master that Herwald had hunted down had been none other than Matou Shinji, the current heir to the Makiri family, who at the time was acting as Rider's Master through the machinations of his Grandfather Zouken and a Book of False Attendant.

While initially surprised that the Makiri had produced an heir capable of Magic, this soon devolved to little more than disdain, as the teen was little more than a philandering, snivelling, cowardly braggart who clearly put more stock in his family's history than his own abilities, which from what Herwald could see, were seriously lacking. The fool couldn't even supply enough prana to sustain his servant, a rather voluptuous looking specimen that could give even Leysritt and Sella a run for their money, evidenced by his ordering her to erect a barrier that would devour the souls from his local school to sustain her.

Herwald had to admit he'd felt SATISFIED splattering the little bastard's brains over the inside of his skull, though the fact Rider had simply stood back and WATCHED, with a smug look on her face, had been mildly disconcerting enough that he hadn't raised much objection when she'd given him the slip.

It had nothing at all to do with the kiss she'd placed on his cheek before disappearing into the ether, though he'd been grateful for the horde of skeletal minions that chose to attack at that moment, as it kept him from thinking about the look of jealousy in Assassin's eyes.

"Verdammt Gorgon." He muttered, not unkindly, even as he pulled on a long-sleeved T-shirt, a hand-me-down from Shirou that Fujimura Taiga had bestowed upon him, depositing his dirty laundry in the washroom before making his way to the main room via the veranda, only to find Tohsaka Rin already sitting at the table.

"Oh? Good morning, Herwald-kun." the Tohsaka heir greeted, looking up at the younger Magus as he walked into the main room, a rice-cracker held to her lips "Early to rise, as usual I see. I'd have slept in if it were MY birthday."

"Guten Morgen, Tohsaka-san." Herwald greeted, inclining his head politely towards his former enemy, and Sakura's elder sister as it turned out, as he took a seat at the table, helping himself to one of the crackers "You slept over again?"

"U-Urusei!" the blue-eyed mage sputtered, sending him a hot glare that didn't quite cover up the flustered blush that adorned her cheeks "Don't think just because you're a year older you can start acting big! You're a fine one to talk either way!"

"Shirou is my Step-brother, Tohsaka-san." Herwald reminded the older Magus "Illyasviel and I have every right to stay in his home as long as he permits."

Rin twitched, before turning her back on the youth, muttering something about 'cocky Germanic brats' and 'soft-hearted idiots' whilst animatedly devouring every cracker she laid her hands on, earning a chuckle from the adopted Einzbern.

Herwald had to admit he'd never expected to be sitting across from the elder girl, sharing polite conversation while awaiting breakfast to be served. He'd first witnessed her during Illyasviel's initial encounter with them outside the Kotomine Church, where the girl's enigmatic Archer Servant had managed to take one of Berserker's lives, along with most of the cemetery, impressing his sister enough that she deigned to let them live for the moment, with Rin proposing an alliance with Shirou and Saber shortly afterwards, in order to stand a better chance against the threat posed by Berserker.

This had posed a problem, as Herwald couldn't eliminate the Tohsaka heir without getting into conflict with Emiya Shirou, an act which would violate his promise to Illyasviel. He decided to leave the matter in his sister's, or rather, Berserker's capable hands. If Illyasviel decided they were to die, there was little Herwald need do but track down Lancer's Master, as well as possibly finishing off Caster and Rider before they could enter into a new contract.

Assassin eventually detected unusual activity at the temple just outside the city limits, which Illyasviel quickly deduced to be the source of the mass Soul-stealing that was afflicting the city. Figuring Caster had started up again, as Rider had only been able to cover a single building, and he doubted a Lancer type could cover a whole city, he'd set out to deal with the Medea once and for all, only to wind up saving Shirou from Tohsaka's treacherous Servant, Archer.

'I can't believe I let him bait me into that fight…' Herwald muttered, palming his face even as Rin looked up to see a bruised and battered Shirou stagger into the house, having apparently been run over by Fujimura-sensei's scooter, AGAIN. 'If it weren't for Assassin I'd have been killed…'

Needless to say, after stalling for several minutes through creative use of Destruction Alchemy, Archer not leaving him enough openings to use Reconstruction, the adoptive Einzbern had used one of his Command Seals to summon is Servant, the two of them managing to catch the red-clad servant off guard long enough to make their escape, though Herwald was almost drained by the time he finally collapsed in his bed at the Einzbern estate.

'And then things REALLY went south…' he muttered, recalling how he'd been roused the following morning, courtesy of Berserker's enraged roars and the sounds of battle being waged in the foyer.

* * *

_Flashback, Einzbern Castle on the outskirts of Fuyuki Forest..._

"Was zur Hölle?" Herwald swore, staggering out of his room without a shirt, grimacing slightly as his wounds, which had been tended to he noticed, stung at the sudden movement "What in Gott's name is going on?"

"Master Herwald!" a voice called out, the adopted Einzbern turning to see a distraught Leysritt, one of the two Hommunculi attendendants that had accompanied them here, racing towards him, her red eyes wide with terror "Master Herwald come quickly!"

"Leysritt?" he stammered, staring at the normally composed maidservant in alarm as she collapsed on her knees before him, kneeling don to help compose the distraught woman "Was ist happening? Was ist that noise?"

"Mistress Illyasviel…" Leysritt gasped, looking desperately up at the youth as she gasped for breath, her hands gripping his upper arms tightly "Mistress Illyasviel ist under attack!"

Herwald's blinked unable to believe the maids words. How could he? Who would DARE attack his sister, knowing they would have to contend with the Berserker Heracles? "How many intruders are there?" he demanded, gripping the distraught homunculus by the shoulders, giving her a good shake to make her focus "Verdammt Leysritt stay with me! How many are there?"

"O-One…" the maid stammered, her crimson eyes lined with tears as she continued to tremble in his arms "There ist but one man…"

"One man?" Herwald repeated, blinking at her in confusion, even as Berserker's roar of fury shook the very foundations of the castle "No man can stand against Servant." He grimaced as his wounds from Archer stung "Not one ALIVE anyways…" His eyes widened "Scheiße, a Servant!"

"He…he just came right up to the front door…" Leysritt sobbed, her features distraught as she trembled in his arms "Sella went to see what he wanted…and he…he…"

Herwald's blood froze, his emerald eyes widening as he realized the reason behind Leysritt' distress. While Sella had not been as close to him as her sister, the stern Homunculus maidservant had still accepted him like all the other Homunculi, the closest thing Herwald had to family within the confines of castle Einzbern. They had treated him as one of their own, and Herwald, in turn, embraced them as his kin. "Wait here, Leysritt." He ordered, his tone commanding as he helped the distraught maidservant to her feet, pushing her inside his room "Stay here and don't come out, that's an order."

Not even bothering to wait for a reply, he pushed her in, slamming the door shut and using his left array to alchemically seal it over, before turning on his heel and racing down the corridor. "Assassin! He barked, the ebony skinned killer appearing at his side, evenly keeping up with him as he raced through the halls "Find Sella! Get her and Leysritt to safety and then come back!"

"As you wish, Master." She acknowledged, finishing into the darkness once more, Herwald not even looking back as he rounded the corner, slamming open the doors at the top of the grand staircase, only to pull up short at the sight before him.

Berserker, the unstoppable killing machine, the almighty son of Zeus himself, stood bound in chains, the iron links digging deep into his bronze skin, his grotesque muscle straining as he endeavoured to break the restraints, an endeavour that proved a far more daunting task than any of his infamous Twelve labours.

Behind him stood Illyasviel, his precious elder sister unable to comprehend the sight of her giant protector's predicament, her eyes wide with disbelief and dawning horror, a horror Herwald couldn't help but feel himself.

"Not even a God can break those chains." A smug, arrogant voice declared, Herwald's eyes lifting to see the speaker sanding before the ensnared giant, one hand on his hip, the other resting almost casually at his side.

He was dressed in a black jacket and trousers over a casual white T-shirt, his blonde hair resting messily over his young, aristocratic features, which wer set with a pair of regal crimson eyes. It was those self-same eyes that gave him away, for no mortal man had ever born eyes that carried such age, such regal presence.

The man was a Heroic Spirit, though something deep within the adoptive Einzbern told him this WASN'T Lancer.

As if to prove it, the blonde man raised a hand in the air, Herwald's eyes widening as a veritable armoury of weapons appeared behind him, their deadly points aimed at the captive giant. With a casual, almost dismissive wave, they launched themselves at their target, Berserker's roars of agony and rage echoing around the ruined foyer, until at last, the giant fell backwards, dissolving back into the ether before he even touched the ground.

"Gott im Himmel..." the youth breathed, unable to think, his knees threatening to give way before the sheer impossibility of what he'd just seen. Heracles was a demi-god, even without the Mad Enhancement amplifying his power, his God Hand Noble Phantasm should have made it impossible for anything below A-rank to even scratch his bronzed hide. The fact the golden haired man had not only done so, but repeatedly, and enough times to actually deplete all ELEVEN of the demi-god's remaining lives, should have been impossible, no Heroic Spirit had THAT many Noble Phantasms.

His thoughts on the matter were soon derailed, however, by Illyasviel's sudden scream, his eyes snapping back into focus in time to see the spirit standing over her. "GET DIE HÖLLE AVAY FROM MEINE SCHWESTER!" he roared, slapping his left palm into the ground, sears of marble and stone erupting from the ground, driving the Heroic spirit back, even as he created a wall of spears around Illyasviel.

"Hoh? Transmutation is it?" the Not-So-Heroic Spirit noted, looking intrigued, amused rather, at his near impalement, his crimson eyes lined with dark humour "So the little mongrel believes himself an Alchemist?"

"Shut your mouth!" Herwald snarled, sending another wave of spears at the Spirit, cursing as the blonde braggart idly dodged them all, slapping his right arm into the nearest one, sending a chain reaction through them all that caused them to explode, violently, pelting the Spirit with shrapnel.

"So you don't need a Transmutation circle?" the Spirit noted, sounding more intrigued by the minute even as he warded off the worst of the debris with a wave of his hand "An impressive display…" he allotted, smirking cruelly as a small, curved dagger appeared in his hands "allow me to return the favour!"

Faster than Herwald could think, yet at the same time as casually as if he were waving a baton, the Spirit swung the dagger, almost lazily, towards the adopted Einzbern, a gust of frozen air trailing in its wake, sending Herwald flying backwards through the air, his limbs covered in frost that shattered the moment he slammed into the stairs, Ilya's screams the last thing he heard before darkness claimed him.

* * *

_Present, Emiya Dining Room... _

'Admittedly, attacking the King of Heroes head on had NOT been the best of ideas.' Herwald muttered, wincing at his foolishness even as the rest of their odd little family gathered around the table, unable to help returning the smile that Shirou sent his way as his elder step-brother sat across from him, Illyasviel clinging to his arm, earning disapproving looks from most of the other females present, particularly Sakura and Fujimura-sensei.

Herwald had come to like the older boy's smiles, as the first one he'd seen had been shortly after he'd regained consciousness from Gilgamesh's attack, only to find the concerned ochre eyes of Emiya Shirou looking down at him in relief, with a neutral Tohsaka Rin standing not too far off. When asked as to why they'd come to Einzbern castle, they'd revealed that Caster, that treacherous witch, had stolen their Command Seals, and by proxy, their Servants, from them, and was currently holed up at the Kotomine church, having murdered the overseer of the Grail wars in the process, though Tohsaka was sceptical as to the validity of that statement.

They'd come, at Shirou's admission, to Illyasviel for protection, a valid stratagem, considering she was strategically the strongest Master in the War, though Herwald wondered if they'd have been so quick to attempt such were they aware that his sister was as likely to kill them simply for being there, though it mattered not, seeing as that fleeting hope had been denied them by Gilgamesh's slaughtering of Berserker, before absconding with Illyasviel.

Herwald had wanted to go after them immediately, injuries be damned, and WOULD have, had Lancer not FINALLY decided to make an appearance, offering his assistance in reclaiming Saber from Caster. Naturally, Herwald had been suspicious of the Irish Hero's offer, having not confirmed just WHO his enigmatic master was, only for Tohsaka to accept off the bat, the elder magus pointing out that, even if the alliance only lasted until Saber was reclaimed, they couldn't do ANYTHING to help Illyasviel without her.

So, after tending to a wounded Sella and a distraught Leysritt, they'd gone to the church, Lancer holding off Archer, while Herwald, Shirou and Rin snuck in to face Caster and her Master, Shirou and Rin's History Teacher no less, in what turned out to be a less one-sided battle than they'd thought. For one thing, while it was clear that Kuzuki Souichiro was no magus, he was by no means defenceless, possessing a formidable martial-art that was capable of weaving under their guard to strike at vital points. Coupled with Caster's magic reinforcing his blows, granting him the ability to punch through STONE, this made for a formidable opponent.

However, reinforced or not, the man's body was STILL that of a man, and all it had taken was Shirou distracting him for a split second for Herwald to grab onto him with his right hand, the destruction array doing its thing, leaving the psychotic educator lying on the floor, little more than a pile of twitching flesh. Caster, enraged at the death of her master, had rounded on him in a rage, giving the perfect target for Assassin to lunge from the shadows, her daggers finding the Witch of Betrayal's unprotected back, Medea not even having time to gasp as her form dissolved back into the ether from whence she came.

Before they could celebrate the victory however, Archer, the cock-blocking bastard that he was, appeared on the scene with a hail of swords, the red-clad servant having apparently been pretending to play along with Caster so as to release himself from his servitude to Rin, and by proxy, her command for him NOT to attack Shirou. Freed of this command, he proceeded to kick the redhead's ass around the chapel basement, prompting Rin to enter into a contract with Saber to deal with her treacherous former Servant, with Herwald and Assassin ending their support.

Even with the odds stacked against him however, Archer weathered the combined assault, fighting off Saber despite her obvious superior strength, before whipping out his OWN Noble Phantasm, a spell so rare it bordered on the True Magics: a Reality Marble, a world that represented the innermost reaches of the caster's soul. The next few minutes had been pure bedlam, blades literally falling from the sky at the Servant's command, hurling themselves at their targets with murderous intent. Herwald could still recall the taste of iron in the air, the smell of burning forges, the sound of distant hammers on the wind. When it was over, Archer had made good his escape with a captive Rin in tow, the Servant challenging Shirou to a duel at the Einzbern castle to get her back.

Now, naturally, Herwald could care less about rescuing an enemy Magus, but with Saber bound to Rin, and Shirou being the bleeding heart he was, the adoptive Einzbern had little choice but to assist his unknowing step-sibling in rescuing the Tohsaka heir, leading them back to the Einzbern estate, sneaking in through the back entrance while Shirou and his former Servant went to Challenge Archer.

He didn't know what exactly had happened during the course of the duel, having volunteered to rescue Rin while Shirou stalled, seeing as he knew the inside of the castle better than anyone, save Leysritt and Sella, who'd been locked in with the magus for company, Leysritt breaking down with tears of relief at his safe return, while Sella made her relief known in more reserved fashion.

When they'd returned to the foyer, it was to find that Shirou, despite all logic, had somehow managed a win, only for Gilgamesh to finish the Red Knight off, and would have done the same to them had Assassin not attacked him head on, his loyal Servant sacrificing herself to buy them the time needed to escape. Herwald had felt their connection fade before they'd even left the property, and in a rage had used his Destruction Array to collapse the castle on top of the King of Heroes.

It had been a childish waste of Prana, doing little more than slow the Golden Archer down, but Herwald could have cared less, seeing it as the perfect requiem for his Servant's loyal sacrifice.

They'd reconvened at Shirou's house, where his sibling had entered into a Prana exchange ritual with Rin in order to better combat Gilgamesh's Gate of Babylon. It was an insane plan, with only the slightest margin of victory, but Herwald had to admit that Shirou's 'tracing' ability made him the natural enemy of the King of Heroes, capable of hurling his unlimited arsenal back in his face. While this was going on, he'd approached Saber, asking her to share the TRUE tale behind the previous Grail War, as it was clear the Servant retained her memories of it from her recollection of Gilgamesh, despite the safeguards in place to prevent such a thing from occurring. By the end of the telling, Herwald's resolve to see that the 5th Heaven's Feel never came to pass had never been stronger.

Preparations made and resolve confirmed, they'd stormed Ryuudou temple, intent on finishing things once and for all, only for Lancer to stand in their way, forcing Saber to battle the Irish Legend while Shirou headed off to deal with Gilgamesh. This left Herwald and Rin to deal with the mastermind, none other than Kotomine Kirei, who as the female Magus had suspected, was very much alive and well.

It had been a brutal battle, as equally psychological as it was physical, Kirei augmenting his prodigious magical might with the corrupted essence of the Grail, hurling the blasphemous sludge at them in a bid to drive them to the brink of insanity, only for Herwald's Transmuted defences to get in the way each time, allowing Rin the opening she needed to drive her family's Azoth dagger into the man's chest, unleashing the stored Magics within, sending the corrupted priest into the afterlife with a self-mocking smile on his face.

All that had been left, after that, was for Saber to destroy the Grail, the Holy Sword Excalibur's might eradicating it from the world, the King of Knights fading with it with a content smile on her beautiful face, her emerald eyes meeting with Herwald's own briefly, sending another surge of memory through him, before they too faded into the ether.

'And here we find ourselves.' Herwald chuckled, looking on with helpless amusement as Fujimura Taiga twirled Illyasviel over her head like a pizza chef kneading dough, Sella and Leysritt looking on in shock, Sakura and Shirou attempting to calm the woman down, while Rin and Rider simply looking on in bemusement.

It was only shortly after the events at the temple that Rider had appeared before them again, having stayed clear of the fighting with her TRUE master, Sakura. This, technically, meant that Sakura was the true winner of the 5th Heaven's Feel, but since the Grail itself had been destroyed, meaning there was no prize to claim, the youngest of the Gorgon Sisters was content to simply live out her life with Rin's little sister, an arrangement that suited everyone just fine.

As it were, the Einzbern siblings were quite content with their new lot in life. Shirou, upon learning of their relation, having taken them in with open arms, glad to have some connection to their father beyond the empty house and the man's name. True, he found Illyasviel's advances a little unnerving, as her appearance aside, she WAS technically his ELDER sister, a fact contested most strongly by the overly possessive Fujimura Taiga, who Herwald suspected was just as attracted to his step-brother as the rest of the females were.

And so things could have continued, all of them living the lives of a highly unusual family, were it not for the large owl that suddenly swooped into the room through the open porch doors, startling Taiga, who lost her footing, only Shirou's desperate lunge saving his sister and guardian from serious injury, though he himself was buried beneath them as a result.

Ignoring the spectacle for the moment, Herwald turned his attention to the owl, noting that it was an Eagle Owl, a rarity in itself, though not one indigenous to Japan, as they were indigenous to Europe and the United Kingdom. It held a letter in its beak, and was regarding him the same intensity one would expect from an antiques examiner searching for a forgery.

After a moment's silent contemplation, it hopped awkwardly across the tale towards him, opening its beak to deposit the letter in his lap, before spreading its massive wings and flying out the open porch doors, disappearing into the blue sky with a shriek, the rest of the house staring after it in shock.

Herwald, initially stunned by the encounter, turned his attention to the letter, noting that it was made of parchment, rather than typical paper, turning it over to stare at the address written on the back in emerald-green ink:

_Mr. H. Potter,_

_The Guest Room,_

_Emiya Estate,_

_Fuyuki City,_

_Japan._

* * *

Rest assured, Chapter 3 will be up soon. Again, apologies for the length, backstory is hard to summarize.

For those of you out there that missed the preview chapter, yes, Herwald IS Harry, Herwald being the old German translation of Harold, as far be it from the Einzberns to call a child under THEIR roof anything other than a German Name.

Another reason for the renaming is because Jubstacheit, seeing the chance to pull one over on the 'twinkle-eyed schweinhund', as he 'affectionately' refers to Dumbles, he took in the 'boy who lived', brought him up as a means of controlling Illyasviel, and then turned him into a living 'Weapon' in order to seize the 5th Heaven's feel, which, as we all know, didn't quite fall through.

Harry's 'Alchemical Circuits' work identically to Scar's 'Destruction' and 'Creation' Arrays, and are, in fact, the same thing, only refashioned to suit the rules of the Nasu-verse, in that they require Prana, or Od, to activate. Other than that, they follow the same principles of Alchemy as in Fullmetal Alchemist, allowing The Boy Who Lived to make use of quite a range of techniues from the show.

For those of you that can tell, this 'backstory' section is a reworking of the 'Unlimited Blade Works' Scenario, with elements of 'Fate', (in that Ilya is still alive) and 'Heaven's Feel', in that Rider is still Sakura's Servant, worked into the equation.

I'm set on Slytherin for now, if only to mess with Dumbles mind, though also because I just can't picture a Ravenclaw Einzbern, as they have a bit of a reputation of being 'dark' wizards, though not necesarrily EVIL.

Like it? Hate it? Review to let me know!


	3. Chapter 2: The Letter

Here's the first NEW chapter for all those patient fans out there

let's see how Herwald reacts to his true identity, eh?

If you have any ideas for Herwald's harem, tell me in reviews,m but don't just list names, gimme reasons and plausible scenarios.

* * *

The Letter.

"Was zur Hölle?" Herwald muttered, turning the envelope over and over, noting the strange wax stamp that adorned the back, bearing a shield crest that depicted a Lion, a Snake, a Badger and an Eagle surrounding the letter 'H'. The word HOGWARTS depicted over the top, with a string of Latin underneath.

"Oooh…what happened?" Taiga moaned, the normally energetic woman slowly coming round from her fall, unaware she was currently sitting on Shirou's head, giving the redhead a clear shot of her tiger-stripe underwear.

"F-Fujimura-sensei…" Sakura stammered, clearly torn between surprise at the sudden arrival and concern for Herwald's older brother "You're crushing Sempai."

"Eh?" Taiga wondered, looking down, only to yelp at the sight of Shirou's face up her skirt, leaping to her feet, dragging the semi-conscious teen with her "Shirou you pervert!" she roared, shaking the poor redhead like a ragdoll, a roaring tiger in the background "I didn't raise you to look up women's skirts!"

'Are we sure she isn't a magus?' Herwald wondered, sweat dropping as he gazed at the fire-breathing illusion behind the woman, stuffing the letter into his pocket, out of sight, even as Leysritt and Sella tended to Illyasviel, while Rider and Rin simply sat back and watched in bemusement.

While having a responsible, sort of, adult around to take care of them was handy, the fact that Taiga was not, herself, aware of Magic, meant that the rest of the Emiya house had to walk on tenderfoot to avoid letting the woman find out. This meant avoiding talking about the Grail War while she was in ear shot, instructing or practicing mage craft on the property if there was a chance she could pop by, or doing anything remotely out of the ordinary that might draw her attention like a cat to string.

It was frustrating, living a lie, especially considering how he'd spent most of his lif surrounded by magic. He had to marvel at how adept Shirou was at keeping his innate talents hidden from his smothering, self-proclaimed guardian, though that might have something to do with the fact those 'talents' hadn't been much to speak of, initially.

'Hard to believe he fought toe-to-toe with the King of Heroes himself.' The boy marvelled, looking on as Taiga put an unresisting Shirou into a headlock, unknowingly pushing the redhead's face into her right breast in her endeavour to 'drive the perversion out of him' by twisting his head off, Rider and Rin looking on in bemusement, while Sakura fluttered around like a headless chicken trying to stop her, Leysritt and Sella too busy tending to Illyasviel to care.

* * *

Later...

After Taiga had calmed down, the energetic woman had taken off like a bullet, having realized she was late for her summer-school classes, having been roped in to substitute for the late Kuzuki-sensei at the last minute. She informed them, at a run, that she would be attending the Archery Club later that evening, and so would be home late, before racing off, threatening grievous bodily harm if anyone touched her share of dinner as she went.

This left Herwald and the others relatively free to discuss the letter he'd received without fear of being overheard, the entire group gathering around the dining table the moment she'd cleared the compound walls.

"Weird…" Shirou muttered, the redhead turning the parchment envelope over in his hands with a confused look in his ochre eyes "They even got your room down…" his brows furrowed in concern "could someone be scrying the house?"

"Impossible." Rin countered, shaking her head with a frown "After the whole incident with Caster, I threw up a barrier to keep people from scrying the house."

Shirou grimaced, recalling how easily the deranged Servant had spied on them, drawing him to Ryuudou temple in a bid to steal his Command Seals, only to later break in, taking Taiga hostage to successfully do so.

"You're too naïve, Rin." Illyasviel countered, the girl having recovered from her recent flight via air-Taiga, sitting on Shirou's right, one finger raised confidently in the air "You should know better than that, the Bounded Field may keep people from scrying the house, but that doesn't mean they can't use OTHER means of finding it."

"I know that." Rin countered, shooting the deceptively younger girl a glare "But the barrier I placed around the house would've told me if someone's familiar broke in. Never mind the one Shirou's father placed over it to detect those with hostile intent."

"Can we get back to the letter?" Shirou asked, looking a little uncomfortable, both at the friction between Rin and Illyasviel, as well as the former's casual admission to placing a barrier over his house without his knowledge "Like who sent it?"

"Most Mages use familiars to deliver messages, Shirou." Rin explained, assuming what had come to be known as her 'lecturing' pose, one hand supporting her elbow, while she waved a finger knowingly "It's a little old fashioned, but they prefer it to using more modern methods like Telephones or the postal service."

"The Einzbern family usually use Homunculi to deliver their messages." Illyasviel admitted, smiling up at her step-sibling endearingly, while Sella and Leysritt inclined their heads "It's safer, because they can fight back and repeat the messages in person, instead of carrying it around."

"We performed similar tasks prior to coming here." Sella admitted, her features taciturn as ever as she inclined her head towards the redhead, who blinked, still unused to the maidservants' presence.

"It isn't the owl that bothers me." Herwald countered, looking at the letter with a scowl, "Hell I'm not even bothered with how they knew my room." He reached out to tap the name of the Addressee "what bothers me is that this letter is addressed to Harry Potter."

"Who?" Shirou wondered, blinking in confusion, even as the females in the room, with the exception of Rider, straightened up slightly, Sakura's hands clapping over her mouth, Rin's eyes widening in surprise, while Illyasviel simply looked stunned "Is he important?"

"Is he-?" Rin began, rounding on the redhead in disbelief, only to sigh, covering her head in exasperation, a sure sign she was dealing with a Kiritsugu-inspired migraine "Right, I forgot you're a basic novice at this…"

"Master Shirou, Harry Potter is one of the most famous people in the Magical World." Leysritt explained, the Homunculus Maidservant's tone gentle "He's the one who defeated the Dark Lord Voldemort, despite only being a baby at the time."

"I heard about him." Shirou admitted, looking between the assorted Magi warily "Voldemort I mean, Dad said he was a Dark Wizard that was killed about a Year before he adopted me." He blinked in confusion "So he was killed by a Baby? Wow…"

"Not only that," Sella continued, the 'elder' homunculus' tone not quite as stern as usual "But young Harry is said to be the only person in recorded history to have survived being hit by the Killing Curse."

Shirou's eyes widened at THAT, the redhead gaping at the normally strict Maidservant in disbelief. While his magical education had been, at best, half-assed, Kiritsugu had at least driven home the basics of the Magi's code, most specifically, the importance of the Three Unforgivable Curses, specifically why they deserved the capital letters. To hear that someone had survived a direct hit from the WORST of the Three, a BABY no less, only served to give him a greater respect for the powers of Magic.

"You think there's been a mix-up?" Rider wondered, quirking one of her brows as she eyed Herwald from behind her spectacles "I mean, Herwald-kun's strong, I'll be the first to admit…but survivng a deathspell at infancy?"

"Magical post might be an out-dated pain in the ass, but it doesn't make mistakes." Rin countered, looking both grim and intrigued by the subject "Besides, for someone to go to the length of putting down his EXACT location, there can be little doubt that the letter was meant for Herwald-kun."

"Grandfather DID say that papa brought you back from a job in Britain." Illyasviel admitted, a look of wonder on her face as she stared at her younger sibling "Maybe he rescued you after you killed Voldemort?"

"I find it HIGHLY unlikely that a year-old BABY could kill a fully trained Wizard." Herwald countered, his expression decidedly deadpan as he regarded his sibling "Let alone one that ran circles around the Clock Tower's Enforcers for years."

"But it lists your bedroom perfectly Herwald-kun." Sakura pointed out, looking both shocked and enawed at the probability of her crush's little brother being a living legend "And the Owl DID seem to be examining you very carefully."

"There's one way to be sure." Rin pointed out, eyeing the younger Einzbern carefully from across the table "According to rumour, Harry's supposed to have a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt on his forehead." She smirked at Herwald's flinch "now I'm not a 100% sure, since that long hair of yours is always in the way, but I'm pretty certain you've got a scar in the exact same place."

"That's right!" Illyasviel exclaimed, her crimson eyes widening in surprised glee as she turned to face her younger step-sibling "I used to enjoy tracing it every time you came to me because of nightmares!"

Herwald grimaced, his hand going unconsciously to his brow, where there indeed was such a scar, hidden behind his long, messy black hair, which he'd grown out since childhood, a tradition amongst Einzbern males. He'd never really thought about it much, attributing it to an injury received prior to Kiritsugu picking him up, Jubstacheit certainly never told him anything of it.

"Harry Potter…" Rin muttered, shaking her head with a bemused smile, sending a wry look towards the equally stunned Shirou "Only you Shirou, only you would turn out to have a celebrity as your adoptive sibling."

"Seems par for the course for my life." Shirou admitted, chuckling nervously even as he glanced uncertainly towards his little brother, Herwald returning the look with a casual nod. The two of them really didn't care much for fame or glory, even during the Grail war, they'd been fighting entirely for the benefit of others, Herwald for Illyasviel, and Shirou for the innocents that would get caught in the crossfire.

Herwald could respect that, after all, it was a Magus' creed to use their abilities for the betterment of mankind, as well as to prevent others from abusing that power for the same reasons.

"So who's it from?" Rin asked, snapping the pair out of their thought, the elder Tohsaka sibling's features marred with a frown, glancing repeatedly between Herwald and the letter in his hand with growing impatience "Is there a return address?"

"Not really." Herwald countered, turning the letter over uncertainly, only to frown as he caught sight of a strange crest embedded in the red sealing wax a the back "There's something written here…looks like Hogwarts." He looked up a Illyasviel in confusion "That's that Wizarding school in Scotland isn't it? The one with that Headmaster Grandfather kept going on about?"

"Albus Dumbledore." Sella supplied, earning a few looks of surprise from the Tohsaka siblings, while Shirou once again blinked in confusion "The Current Headmaster, and the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards."

"Sort of like the UN for Magic Users." Herwald supplied, catching the look of confusion in Shirou's eyes and deciding to help his elder step-sibling out before Rin could berate him "They basically make sure all Magical societies follow the rules. Even the Clock Tower can't go against their authority, though the elders don't really like it."

"I see…" Shirou noted, smiling gratefully at the younger Einzbern for his assistance, even as he glanced at the letter in awe "So this Dumbledore guy's pretty important I take it."

"He's pretty famous in Europe." Rin supplied, picking up the slack "Back in World War 2, he defeated another Dark Wizard called Grindelwald in 1945, and discovered at least twelve different uses for dragon's blood."

"He's also completed many alchemical studies with Nicolas Flamel." Herwald supplied, earning a look of shock from the redhead, which was understandable. Flamel was one of the most famous Magi of all time, the only Alchemists to create a working Philosopher's Stone. Herwald had studied the man's older research notes on transmutation in depth during his training prior to the Grail War, the Einzberns having gotten their hands on some of his manuscripts over the years, and found them both highly perplexing and deeply intriguing.

"But why on earth is he writing to Herwald-kun?" Sakura wondered, looking at the letter in the youth's hand in understandable confusion "Did you ever meet him?"

"I doubt it. Herwald countered, snorting in wry bemusement "Grandfather and Dumbledore aren't on the best of terms. The last time they were together was shortly after Grindelwald was defeated. I don't know what happened exactly, but the end result was Dumbledore being carted off to a medic with a broken nose."

"Grandfather loves telling that story." Illyasviel admitted with a small, innocent smile that didn't quite match the sadness in her eyes "It's one of the few times he actually smiles."

Herwald shivered, knowing from experience that whenever Jubstacheit smiled, he typically resembled a shark. The only exceptions were the times he fantasized about the Grail, and the time he recalled decking the Supreme Mugwump, all those years ago.

"Alright," Rin muttered, slapping a hand on the table t get them to focus "So there's no love lost between the old guys, that still doesn't explain why one of the most famous Wizards of our time is writing to Herwald-kun, and staring at the damn letter isn't going to get us any answers."

Herwald snorted, amused at the Tohsaka heir's impatience, even as he carefully slit the back of the envelop, removing the parchment within and opening it out, reading the contents aloud:

* * *

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall,_

_Deputy Headmistress_

* * *

"It's an invitation letter." Herwald noted, one brow quirked as he examined the letter, as if wondering if more lettering were on the back "A rather abrupt one at that."

"Wait, there are SCHOOLS that teach magic?" Shirou wondered, looking to Rin, Sakura and Illyasviel for confirmation, only to blink at their nod "I mean, I know all about the Magus Association, but this is the first I've heard about SCHOOLS."

"That's because there aren't any in Japan, Sempai." Sakura assured him, cutting off her elder sister before Rin could say something caustic "Japan's magical History isn't as developed as the other countries, most Magi came here from abroad, and either brought their relatives back or trained themselves, like Nee-chan."

"I learned the basics from our father, who studied abroad." Rin admitted, sending a glance at her younger sister for stealing her thunder before sighing "But it's true that, with the exceptions of the time I could stomach listening to Kirei, I'm mainly self-taught."

"Most of the weaker members of our family went to Durmstrang." Illyasviel revealed, putting a finger to her lips as she thought "Grandfather never let ME go though, said they couldn't teach me anything important."

Shirou frowned, looking at Herwald, the two of them sharing a private understanding of just what the Einzbern head's TRUE intentions behind denying Illyasviel a proper magical education had been. What would be the point, after all, of training her up, only for her to be used as the vessel for the Holy Grail.

"What I don't understand is what the mean by 'accepted'." The younger Einzbern muttered, tapping the word on the parchment in question for all to see "I certainly don't remember applying to Hogwarts…and I certainly doubt that GRANDFATHER signed me up."

"Perhaps your parents did, Master Herwald." Leysritt suggested gently, the maidservant smiling calmingly at the confused youth "With certain European Wizarding families, it is not uncommon to register their children at birth with the Academia of their choice."

Herwald frowned, honestly wondering how to react to such a revelation. To him, his family consisted of Illyasviel, Leysritt, Sella, their fellow Homunculi, and recently Emiya Shirou. He had only a passing memories of Irisviel and Kiritsugu, mere stories passed on to him from his step-siblings, which was more than he could say for his memories of his birth parents, which consisted solely of an occasional, repetitive nightmare, where he would hear a woman's scream, followed by a flash of green light that never failed to wake him up, trembling like a lamb and drenched with sweat.

"Herwald-kun?" Shirou called out, snapping his younger sibling out of his thoughts, the elder boy regarding the younger with a look of concern "You okay?"

"Fine." Herwald assured him, inclining his head gratefully at the redhead, before turning his attention back to the offending letter "Just wondering what I'm supposed to do with this?"

"What do you mean 'wondering'?" Rin demanded, the elder Tohsaka looking at the younger Einzbern as if he were insane "Do you know what an opportunity this is? Most Magi have to FIGHT to be accepted into a magical academy! You've practically been given a free-slip!"

"Nee-san, calm down." Sakura chuckled, sweat dropping nervously at her elder sister's antics. It was understandable really, as Rin had recently been applying to enter into the prestigious Clock Tower, the core of the Mages Association, only to be driven to her wits end as a result of all the red-tape associated with being a 'foreigner', never mind that the Tohsaka-clan had an established history there. The only reasons she'd even gotten THIS far was because her clan had ties to Zelretch of the Gemstone, the legendary Wizard Marshall and master of the 2nd True Magic. Though knowing the old bloodsucker, he was most likely giving her a hard time on purpose.

"It IS a good opportunity to develop my skills." Herwald admitted, frowning at the paper thoughtfully as he stroked his chin "The problem is, I'll need Grandfather's permission to go." He reminded them, causing Illyasviel and the maids to flinch "And since the deadline to let them know is LITERALLY today, I think we might want to step on it."

Needless to say, it was NOT how Herwald would have preferred to spend his Eleventh Birthday.

* * *

_Castle Einzbern, abandon all hope all ye who enter here..._

Jubstacheit von Einzbern was many things, most of them DANGEROUS things, but a generous, forgiving man wasn't one of them. So it was hardly a surprise, when the face of the 'stray' he'd sent out with Illyasviel to attain the Holy Grail appeared in the mirror of his study, he was decidedly less than amused, even LESS so when the little brat revealed he'd gotten a letter with his REAL name on it.

'Blast that Dumbledore!' he snarled, his mind whirling with decidedly unsavoury thoughts, even as he pretended to listen to the brat's report 'As if I didn't have enough on my plate without HIM popping up.'

It was well known that there was no love-lost between Jubstacheit and the Supreme Mugwump, it had all started when the two had competed for an apprenticeship with Nicholas Flamel, the renowned Alchemist, only for the 'twinkle-eyed Schwein-Hund' to sabotage the then heri of Einzbern, casting suspicion on him by making it seem as if he was only after the man's knowledge on the Philosopher's stone.

While Jubstacheit WAS interested in the stone, and the Elixir of Youth it could convey, he was hardly willing to sacrifice his apprenticeship for it, figuring that, with enough time, he could recreate it at his leisure AFTER learning as much as he could from the Alchemical Master. Dumbledore's meddling, in the name of the bastard's 'Greater Good', had thrown a wrench in his plans, though it was with great pleasure that he'd watched Flamel dismiss Dumbledore just as readily, citing that, while Jubstacheit's goals were suspect, Dumbledore was by no means a saint himself.

This hadn't stopped Jubstacheit from breaking the little bastard's nose the minute the door to Flamel's workshop slammed shut behind them, leaving him upside down in a barrel of alchemical waste while he himself went to get pole-axed at the local bar.

And now Harry, or Herwald rather, had received a letter inviting him to Dumbledore's joke of a School, all because the boy's birth parents had made the mistake of believing sending their spawn there would make him a half-way competent Magus. Or Wizard, rather, bloody Englanders.

'Maybe during the Founder's time.' He allotted grudgingly, 'But after a slew of Dark wars and Three Gryffindor's as Headmaster, the place is so riddled with inter-house espionage you'd be lucky to last one minute without being jinxed because you wore a different coloured tie.' He scowled in distaste 'Not only that, he's the Damned Brat-Who-Survived or whatever the Hölle they're calling him, I don't doubt for a second that Schwein-Hund has some plan for him…'

He paused, his eyes narrowing even as a slow, shark-like smile formed across his face, his mind whirling with dark, vengeful thoughts that would make lesser men shiver were they privy to them. "Grandfather?" Herwald called out, the boy looking decidedly unnerved by the old man's prolonged silence, and even more so by his smile "Is something the matter?"

"Nothing at all, my boy." Jubstacheit assured him, not missing the slight twitch at the endearing term. Jubstacheit rarely referred to anyone affectionately, and when he did it usually meant he either had a use for them, or had thought of something particularly nasty for them to do "You have my permission to go to Hogwarts if you choose." He suppressed the urge to smirk at the boy's stunned expression "However, I must caution you to be wary of the Headmaster. He is a skilled Legilimens, and won't hesitate to use this ability to garner whatever secrets he can of our family's style of magic for his own benefit."

"Jahol, I will be careful, Grandfather." Herwald assured him, the boy's expression suddenly guarded at the mention of Legilimency, a clear sign that he was even now checking his mental barricades, as he'd been taught "However, the deadline for my acceptance is today, and I don't have a means of contacting them."

"Do not worry, I shall owl them immediately." Jubstacheit assured him, waving a hand dismissively, even as he scowled "However, as punishment for your failure to obtain the Grail, do NOT expect an more help from me than this. You will have to make use of whatever support funds they possess."

"Understood, Grandfather." Herwald agreed, and Jubstacheit was impressed, despite himself, at the boy's resolve. Were he not a stray, and a failure at that, he might have considered naming him heir, he was certainly a more interesting specimen than his current one.

'We shall see.' The Einzbern head muttered, shaking such thoughts from his head, regarding the human weapon he'd sent abroad with calculative eyes 'Perhaps he shall prove himself worthy after all.'

"I shall send off a missive at once." He informed the boy, his tone commanding "I shall pass their reply on to you when it arrives." His eyes turned hard as he stared into the boy's emerald green "Prepare yourself and remember: While not of blood, you belong to the Einzbern Familly. Do nothing that would draw shame on our ancestral name."

"I shall endeavour to make you proud, Grandfather." Herwald assured him, inclining his head reverently, before vanishing from the mirror, leaving Jubstacheit staring back at himself in the dimly lit room, his shark-like smile threatening to split his face in half as he chuckled darkly to himself.

* * *

Well, that went a little better than we all thought, right?

For those wondering, Jubstacheit, to my knowledge, has never appeared in person, so take whatever liberties with his appearance as you wish. I personally envision him as a big, muscular bear of a man in the waning of his years, though still a credible threat. He's so powerfull his whole familly lives in terror of him, he doesn't NEED magic to rip you apart, he'd just as soon use his bare hands, finding it somehow more satisfying.

Some of you can guess that the conversation between Herwald and the old bear was carried out in German, in cases where more than one language is used in one scene, I'll use italics and bold to differentiate them in future, but since the only German spoke during the 'japan' scenes were Herwald's expletives, I'm sure they can be excused.

Expect chapter 3 out soon.


	4. Chapter 3: Diagon Alley

Here's the first NEW chapter for all those patient fans out there

first off, I'd like to address a few VERY important issues that was raised by concerned reviewers, which I'm surprised I never considered before.

1. This will NOT be a manipulative Dumbledore fic, though he may come across as that from time to time due to Herwald's perspective being influenced by his life with the Einzberns. The boy was raised to be a weapon, he's naturally suspicious of EVERYONE the first time he meets them. The fact he grew up with Jubstacheit's slander of the Supreme Mugwump didn't help.

Dumbledore may come off as a little manipulative, but this is simply because he's concerned for Herwald (Harry), and doesn't want to end up failing him like he did Tom Riddle (Moldievoldie). Unfortunately, his tried and tested methods only seem to distance himself from the boy, as you'll see as the story progresses, but rest assured they WILL become close as the series goes on, not as close as the are in canon, but close enough that, during the events of HBP, Herwald is going to be very, VERY pissed with a lot of people, Voldemort and Snape in Paticular.

2. In regards to Hogwarts and the British Wizarding World's role in comparison to the Nasuverse, it can be viewed as such. While Hogwarts IS the premiere school for magic in BRITAIN, it's not the best, and is just that: a SCHOOL.

For the purposes of this fic, Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang could be considered the Magical Equivalent of Secondary Schools (High Schools to our American readers) with Owls and NEWTS being the equivalent of GCSE's and A-Level Exams. (I'm not certain of the American Equivalent for these, but you get the idea.) As such, it isn't uncommon for Graduates to set out into the world looking for work the minute they're given their diploma, or whatever the hell Wizards get upon graduating.

By contrast, the Clock Tower, Atlas, and all the other Magus Association Branches, could be considered the Magical Equivalent of Universities and Trade Guilds, where adult Magi can further develop their skills in their chosen fields.

3. Shirou will NOT be coming to Hogwarts as a student. For one he's too old, for another, he was never registered there, and I'm fairly certain only British Citizens can enroll either way, but don't quote me. Herwald is only on the register because, as Sella surmised, James and Lily registered him the moment he was born, as is Wizarding custom.

And even if they hadn't, he didn't necessarily HAVE to go to Hogwarts, as there are surely several other Magical Acadamia in the Uk, such as Negi-kun's Academy in Whales, or Queen Maeve's school in Ireland (an Original Academia for this fic, but Queen Maeve DID instruct Magical students long before the Hogwarts founders ever convened in Canon). While Hogwarts is considered the BEST (From a Secondary School Perspective) in Britain, it is not the only option.

That being said, there's nothing stopping him from coming to Hogwarts for OTHER reasons, such as the battle of Hogwarts, the Triwizard Tournament, and Dumbledore's funeral. Expect Death Nibbler shish-kebabs ala UBW in the near future. Also, expect him to become an object of worship for the Weasley Twins because of his being a 'Bird Magnet'.

4. In regards to power, the Nasuverse and the Potterverse aren't that different. The average Magi has about 20 Magic Circuits in their body, so someone like Arthur Weasley, being a Pureblood, would be around that much, maybe more since he's proven skilled at charms or transfiguration or whatever the hell he did to bring a CAR to life. Voldemort and Dumbledore would be several levels above this, certainly more powerful than Rin, possibly on the same level of Dark Sakura if going at it full force (Remember, she has unlimited Mana, but can only use so much at a time.)

Of course someone like Zelretch is several levels beyond that, but then he's Vampire, a Dead Apostle Ancestor, and the master of the 2nd True Magic. The man killed Arcueid's Ancestor Crimson Moon Brunsestud and stopped him from smashing the MOON into earth, he's pretty much the Hiko Seijuro of the series, unbelievably powerful, but only plays a side-role because he's so unbelievably broken it wouldn't be fair to set him against anyone else.

So in terms of power: Shinji-Dirt-Worms inside the Dirt-(Okay I'll be serious now :3)-Mundane (Muggle)-Squib-Hogwarts Student-Average Magus-House Elves (Dobby knocked Lucius on his ass, enough said)-Emiya Shirou, Tohno Shiki and Herwald/Harry (For the moment)-Rin & Sakura, Akiha (trained, with better overall skills than the boys)-Einzbern Homunculi (Combat models like Sella and Leysritt), Enforcers (Magus, such as Sion) Executors (Church, such as Ciel), Vampires (Like Satsuki) & Death Eaters-Dumbledore, Voldemort (Prior to frst Death), Grindelwald (Peak), Dark Sakura (Again, in terms of power output), Matou Zouken and Jubstacheit-Arcueid Brunstud (1/4 power) Roa, Chaos (Shiki caught him off guard with his Mystic Eyes), Illyasviel (Power output and knowledge from Arch Magus Justica)-Zelretch, Dark Sakura (Sheer Amount of Power), Illyasviel in the Dress of Heaven & Arcuied if she goes full power-Neko Arc, just because.

5. Herwald won't be pulling a Mustang until MUCH later, if ever. He's got Scar's transmutation arms and similar circles to Comanche and Kimbley on his palms, but that's it. He'll need a catalyst to use Flame Alchemy, and that won't be till much, much later, if ever.

6. I WILL address the ticking time-bombs that are Ilya and Sakura eventually, preferably the former first, as it's more urgent, since she's basically got a year to live. Rest assured, Sakura will be addressed in turn, though how I'm going to work THAT in is beyond even ME.

7. The Wizengammot is, essentialy, the Magical Equivalent of Parliament in Britain, there is probably a simillar governing body for the other nations (Like the EU, China, Russia, America and so forth), and the Magus Association Branches for each region fall under their corresponding nation's authority, though the 'elders' of said branches can pretty much hold their own council.

However, The International Confederation of Wizards, ICW, would be the same equivalent of the United Nations. As such, they decide Magical International Law, which the Magus Association is NOT above, as much as some of the higher up wish otherwise. Even Zelretch can't act against laws passed by the ICW. Well, he CAN, he's Zelretch after all, but it wouldn't be legal and he'd rather not bothe with all the red-tape and trouble.

Hope that clears things up a little, I'll try to do what i can in regards to spelling, grammar and translation requests, but bear with me, I'm only human.

That said, the Wheel of Fate is Turning, let's see what this Shift in the Continuum had wrought...

* * *

Diagon Alley.

True as his word, several days after Herwald contacted his Grandfather, one of the family's Homunculi appeared at the Emiya estate, bearing a letter from Hogwarts, sealed in the same yellow parchment, a ticket for a train he was supposed to take on September First, and a portkey in the shape of a beer-stein that would take them directly to Gringotts bank, where Herwald was to enquire as to any support funds he was entitled to as a student.

Shirou had, naturally, offered to come along for support, only to be shot down, as he didn't know the language, and would only end up making a nuisance of himself. Rin and Sakura had also expressed a desire to go, but the former was awaiting a reply from the Magus association regarding her admittance, and the latter didn't want to leave her Sempai on his own with her elder sister for too long.

In the end, only Leysritt and Rider had been chosen to accompany the boy, the former because Sella was adamant in not allowing Illyasviel to go, in case something happened, and the latter at Sakura's insistence, as you never know what might happen abroad.

After the traditional uncomfortable tugging sensation around the navel that was expected of portkey travel, the adopted Einzbern found himself standing before a massive Snow White building with burnished bronze doors, which was guarded on either side by little creatures with cunning faces, dressed in scarlet and gold uniforms. They bowed to the group as they drew closer, only to stiffen at the sight of Rider, eyeing the Gorgon warily as she sauntered past them, their eyes wide and filled with respectful fear.

Herwald ignored them, knowing that Goblins, as a magical race, were far more likely to surmise the Servant's true nature than a human was, the group breezing past the second set of doors, Silver this time, the adoptive Einzbern noting the clever warning etched into them with intrigue, sensing the magical compulsion that had been laid on them, only to look up as they stepped into a vast marble hall, where over a hundred more goblins sat on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales and examining precious stones through eyeglasses.

There were countless doors leading off the hall, far more than one would expect from the outside, and yet more goblins were showing people in and out of these, all of them dressed in robes that practically SCREAMED Wealth and Magic.

"I see Wizarding Fashion hasn't changed much in the past millennia." Rider noted coyly, the Gorgon smirking as she watched a tall, blonde man with a cane stride past as if he owned the place "Caster would feel right at home."

"Kindly refrain from speaking of that witch in my presence." Herwald muttered, scowling at all the trouble Medea had given them during the war even as he made for the nearest counter, his letter from Hogwarts in hand "Good Morning, Master Goblin." He greeted, keeping his tone polite and formal, having been brought up knowing that Goblins were a proud race "I was wondering if you could offer me a moment of your time?"

The Goblin blinked, clearly not used to someone addressing it with such formality, certainly not someone as young as Herwald was. "How can I assist you, sir?" he asked primly, eyeing the boy with a decidedly less intimidating leer than the ones reserved for LESS respectful clients.

"I have recently been accepted into Hogwarts for the Fall semester." Herwald revealed, holding up the letter in question "However, I am bereft of funds, and so wishto enquire as to any Student Support Funds that I might be entitled to."

"May I see the letter, sir?" the Goblin asked, holding out a long-fingered hand to accept the piece of parchment, his eyes running over it as if to check for a forgery, only to widen as he read the name it was addressed to.

"Is there something the matter, Master Goblin?" Herwald asked, his tone polite, though he braced himself to fight or fly, Rider and the Homunculi doing the same, the former's spiked nails appearing in her hands, invisible to the naked eye, while the maids' stance shifted to better defend their young charge.

The goblin blinked, looking up from the letter and squinting at the adoptive Einzbern, shrewd eyes glancing briefly at the scar hidden behind his bangs before relaxing slightly. "Nothing at all sir." He assured the boy, though Herwald didn't miss the calculative look in those shrewd little eyes for a second "Just a little surprised, it's not every day we meet a legend in the flesh."

'Try vacationing in Fuyuki City.' Herwald muttered wryly to himself, shaking his head in bemusement even as the Goblin pulled what appeared to be a speaking-tube out from his desk, barking something in Gobbledygook into it, summoning another, younger Goblin at a run.

"Please escort these customers to Vault Master Ragnok." The Goblin instructed, making clear that he'd done so for Herwald's benefit as he looked at the youth "I apologize for the inconvenience young sir, but protocol demands we validate your claim before permitting access to the funds."

"Understandable." Herwald noted, nodding his head in approval at the Goblin's edict, as it certainly wouldn't do to hand over Gold to just anyone off the street with a piece of easily forged parchment "Thank you for your time, Master Goblin."

"You are very welcome, young Sir." The Goblin supplied, offering the youth a brief, professional bow, which earned a look of shock from the younger Goblin "I hope your meeting with the Vault Master is…enlightening."

* * *

Before Herald could contemplate what the Goblin could possibly mean, he was already being led away by the younger Goblin, allowing the other to address his next customer, a massive man with a mane and beard of curly black hair that stood almost half as tall as Berserker, and almost as wide, dressed in a moleskin overcoat, a pink umbrella held in one massive hand.

They eventually came to a halt before a massive set of golden doors, the little goblin stroking them warily with one long finger, causing them to swing open to reveal a good-sized office, filled with Goblin clerks writing away in massive tomes. At the end of the room, a significantly older goblin sat behind a massive oak desk, his nose buried in another tome, one hand writing with a quill, the other balancing gold coins on a set of scales.

"What is it?" he barked, looking up at the group suspiciously, his eyes pausing longest on Rider, his whole body tensing at the sight of the Servant, before turning to glare at the unfortunate goblin "Who are these…people?"

"M-Master Griphook told me to bring them to you sir." The unfortunate Goblin stammered, clearly intimidated by the elder Goblin's ire "He says the boy needs a confirmation spell."

Ragnok, for indeed that was the Goblin's name, turned to look at Herwald, who held his gaze, knowing that in Goblin society, to avert one's eyes was to show weakness. After a moment's contemplation, Ragnok grunted, clearly impressed despite himself, snapping his overly-long fingers, a scribe standing up and scurrying off into the recesses of the office.

"Well come on then." The Goblin barked, glaring at Herwald, as if every second he spent talking with the boy cost him money, which in all likelihood it DID "Step closer boy!"

Herwald did as commanded, sending a silent signal to the maids to stand down, as they hadn't liked the way he'd been spoken to, before stepping up to the Goblin's desk, just as the scribe returned, bearing a roll of Parchment.

"Now then young sir." Ragnok revealed, unrolling the parchment and drawing a golden dagger from about his person "What we have here is a simple proof of identity spell, all it requires is a drop of blood to see if you're who you claim to be." He smiled wickedly "If, however, it turns out you've been wasting my time…well, let's just say the guards won't be so courteous seeing you out as they were letting you in."

Herwald nodded, stepping forward without hesitation and allowing the Goblin to take his hand in his, not even flinching at the clammy feel of his skin, nor the slight prick of the knife as it pierced him. He'd endured far worse after all.

Ragnok, impressed despite himself at the boy's resolve, allowed the drop of blood to fall on the parchment, which reacted after a moment, the goblin and boy looking on as a line of names formed, an extensive family tree that went on for a good few minutes, before coming to a halt.

"Well," Ragnok muttered, looking visibly impressed despite himself as he regarded the sheer multitude of names on the list "At the very least you're not some nameless urchin off the street…not with THESE credentials."

"Does this prove my identity?" Herwald demanded, idly dabbing at his finger with a cloth provided by Leysritt in order to stem the bleeding as he eyed the parchment.

"Indeed it has." Ragnok noted, inclining his head in agreement "I hereby acknowledge you as Harry James Potter, Son of the Late James Potter and Lily Potter nee Evans, heir to the most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, Heir to the Most ancient and Noble House of Peverell, Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Kay, and as such Seneschal of House Pendragon.

Herwald blinked, not only at the sheer multitude of names, but at the familiarity one name in particular "Did you say 'Pendragon'?" he asked dazedly "As in Arthur Pendragon?"

"Indeed" Ragnok noted, sounding notably impressed, or as impressed as a Goblin could get when it came to Human affairs "it would seem one of your Ancestors, a Sir Kay, was named Seneschal, or Officer of the King's law, at some point during his reign. This title was passed down to his descendants, and though it has fallen out of favour with the ruling monarchy since, it is still formally recognized by the Crown."

Herwald was stumped, thrown by the sheer impossibility of the statement before him. He knew, from the Arthurian texts, that while Saber had supposedly had children, none had lived to claim the throne, the title instead passing to one of her cousins. He knew that she had been raised as a boy by Sir Ector, one of her father's knights, on Merlin's orders, and that the Knight had brought her up alongside his own son as a brother.

Saber herself had expressed a fondness for her elder step-sibling, citing that while he was hot-tempered and brash, he had doted on her in moments of weakness, and had been loyal to her to the very end, lashing out at those that would question her reign, and shielding her from the brunt of insults by taking them upon himself.

History had recorded Sir Kay as a hopeless, conniving braggart that had used his relation with his Step-Brother to his advantage. To Saber, he would always be the loving elder brother that had carved a Lion for her when she was ill, so that she might dream of the mighty beast in her sleep.

"With these titles," Ragnok continued, snapping the boy from his trance "not only do you gain access to your respective vaults, of which there are many, and all titles and effects rightfully bestowed on them, but you are also entitled, as heir, to THREE seats on the Wizengamot, the Wizarding council, though I would advise keeping them in reserve until you've at least presented yourself to the Palace."

"Palace?" Herwald stammered, looking mildly stunned by how this was all turning out. And could you really blame him? He'd gone from an orphan to a human weapon and now it turned out that he might be related to King Arthur's Step-Brother. He now had a better appreciation for Shirou, as the older boy handled the curveballs life threw him with much better ease than Herwald was at that moment.

"Indeed," Ragnok continued, clearly enjoying the boy's reaction "all heirs to the title Earl of Kay are honour bound, by magical and Muggle law, to present themselves to the ruling Monarch to renew the pact between their house and the Crown." he seemed to take pity on the boy "Though if it's any consolation, you can put THAT off at least until you've completed your schooling, if that is to your liking."

"Y-Yes…" Herwald stammered, looking dazed at the prospect, only to shake his head, a scowl marring his features as he gathered his thoughts "Yes, I would prefer that course of action, no point presenting myself to the palace as I am NOW."

"A wise decision, young lord." Ragnok sneered, though there was no mockery in it, it was simply the goblin way to appear condescending, even to people you respected "Very well, I shall have the necessary documents drawn up in a moment, in the meantime, I believe you'll want access to your vaults?"

"How many vaults, exactly, do I have?" Herwald asked, quirking a brow at the suddenly sinister sneer on the Goblin's face, sending a silent signal to Rider and the homunculi to stand down.

"Three vaults in total, one for each title you are entitled to, the Largest, the Kay Vault, has been in existence since the times of King Arthur, the second, the Peverell has been in effect even LONGER, though is smaller as your ancestor was a man of, shall we say, more modest means than the typical Pureblood Wizard."

Herwald didn't miss the slight glint in the Goblin's eyes and had to keep himself from snorting. Considering that most 'Pureblood Wizards' literally threw their Gold around even more than their spells, that probably meant he had more Gold in that Vault than most modern families did collectively.

"The last vault is the Potter Vault, which was your Father's Family Vault." Ragnok continued, his tone all business once more as he cleared his throat "I believe there is a Trust Fund set up there to cover your schooling at Hogwarts."

"We'll start there then." Herwald decided, figuring that there was little point accessing the other vaults when a fund had already been set aside for him to use.

"As you will, young Lord." Ragnok acknowledged, snapping his fingers, summoning another Goblin, younger than him but older than the one that had brought them here "Griphook, take Lord Potter to his Vault," he glanced at the boy "I trust you have your Vault Key?"

"I regret I do not." Herwald countered, frowning at this latest development "Till today, I did not believe I POSSESSED a Vault, let alone THREE."

"No matter, young Lord." Ragnok assured the boy, "The Peverell and Kay Vaults can only be unlocked by the heir's touch, and it will be a simple matter to change the lock on the Potter Vault, and have a new Key bound to your magical signature. Such action is usually performed whenever a new Lord Potter accepts his birth right, Gringotts will gladly carry out this service for a modest fee."

"Many thanks, Vault Master Ragnok." Herwald offered, bowing his head to the Goblin, earning looks of surprise from the younger Goblins that lined the room at the show of respect "Please lead the way, Master Griphook."

'He certainly has the upbringing worthy of the Title Earl of Kay…' Ragnok noted, quirking a brow at the boy's back, his shrewd eyes lingering on Rider's back 'He certainly possesses the man's balls, to be in the company of a GORGON of all things…'

He sneered, a wide, threatening leer that displayed all his sharp, jagged yellow teeth, which was the Goblin equivalent of Jubstacheit's own shark-smile.

'It would appear things are about to become very interesting…'

* * *

_With Herwald..._

The ride to the Potter Vault was an adventure in and of itself, Herwald barely suppressing the desire to whoop with ever sudden dip, the Homunculi crying out in alarm whenever they took a corner to sharply, while Rider simply sat back, her arms crossed beneath her breasts, a bemused expression on her face.

"Verdammt Gorgon." Herwald muttered, scowling at the Servant as she clambered out of the Trolley, not a single purple hair out of place. Rider in turn, simply smiled coyly at him, looking on in bemusement as Leysritt fanned herself excitedly, while the other Homunculus had to lean against the vault wall for support.

Of course, all his irritation with the Gorgon was soon forgotten, as at that moment Griphook opened the Potter Vault, revealing mounds of gold coins, columns of silver and little bronze heaps all scattered about.

"Your trust fund." Griphook revealed, looking highly bemused at the youth's reaction "Your parents made it so you won't be able to access the ENTIRETY of the vault till you came of age, though as heir to House Potter, you may choose to wave those orders if you see fit."

"No, no this will be fine for now." Herwald muttered, the adopted Einzbern feeling a little lost at the moment. Having grown up amongst the Einzberns, Herwald was no stranger to wealth, but it had been made abundantly clear that said wealth was not HIS, that he would never be entitled to it, and that he should never dream of asking for anything. It was quite a shock, therefore, to learn that this, ALL of this, was simply the allowance his late parents had set aside for his schooling. He shuddered to think what the TRUE inheritance was worth.

No, safer to simply make use of the trust fund for now, lest he be tempted to waste all his money on whatever useless baubles that the Wizarding world used to entice lesser minds out of their gold.

After Griphook explained the Wizarding money to the boy, including the basic exchange rate of Knuts to Sickles to Galleons, they shovelled a decent amount of each into a handy bag, which Herwald noted was spelled to hold more than it should possibly carry, they once again boarded the infernal cart, returning to the surface, walking past the large man from before, who was looking decidedly peaky as he leant against one of the pillars for support, and back to Ragnok's office, where the Goblin greeted them with his usual sinister smile.

"All in order, Lord Potter?" he asked, inclining his head towards Rider and the maids as he spoke, his gaze wary and respectful "I took the liberty of fetching the rings from your respective vaults, if you would care to look..."

Herwald nodded, stepping forward as the goblin produced a tray, on which rested two rings. The first was gold, set with Golden 'P' in the centre, beneath a stylized Stag's head. The Second was also Gold, though set with an Azure Blue stone, on which two Golden Keys were displayed.

"I regret that the Peverell family Ring has been lost for some time now." Ragnok muttered, pursing his lips angrily as he spoke "Without an heir to claim the title, it has no doubt been passed down the lines of whatever quick-fingered thief managed to get their hands on it. Rest assured however, that we shall endeavour to locate it as soon as possible."

"My thanks, Vault Master." Herwald offered, eyeing the rings before him warily, knowing from experience that most Wizarding jewels had tricks to them, as Rin was so deft at proving "Do the rings possess any enchantments?"

"The Potter Ring carries charms that grant the wearer Invisibility." Ragnok revealed, sneering at the look of interest on Herwald's face "To activate, simply invoke the word 'Ignotus'. The Kay ring grants the wielder protection from most poisons, and serves to ward off against Legilimency." His eyes grew shrewd "Not only that, but while wearing this ring, it is said no door may be barred against you."

Now THAT was an interesting thought, Herwald eyeing Saber's sibling's crest with renewed interest. To have a literal 'skeleton key' at his command, one that shielded his mind from mental probing, would be a tremendous asset. Clearly, Saber's Step-Brother had taken his duty as the King's Seneschal seriously.

At Ragnok's instruction, he placed the Potter Ring on his left little finger, as was traditional, with Kay's resting a little higher on his index due to its larger size. For a moment, he felt a soft warmth flood through him at their touch, but the moment passed quickly, the Magus thanking Ragnok for his time, signing off a slip as payment for the new Vault Key, before walking out of the bank at last, and into the infamous Diagon Ally.

* * *

_Outside..._

"Glad that's over with." Rider muttered, running a hand through her long purple tresses with a bemused snort "I see the Goblin's haven't changed much since the old days either…just goes to show there's no need to change a winning recipe."

"I for one am all for improvement." Herwald countered, snorting in bemusement as he watched a rather stern faced witch march past with a vulture, of all things, perched atop her pointy hat "I can think of several off the top of my head."

"Master Herwald," Leysritt spoke up, looking at the young heir in concern "We wasted a lot of time in the bank, perhaps we should pick up the pace a little?"

"Good idea." Herwald admitted, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out the Second letter from Hogwarts removing a second piece of Parchment that contained his list of school Supplies and looking it over again. "Why in the Root would I need a WAND of all things?" He demanded, looking utterly flummoxed by the ridiculousness of it all "And broomsticks for that matter! As if keeping Magic a secret wasn't hard enough without some backwards yokel riding around in broad daylight on a cleaning utensil!"

"Perhaps we should fetch you uniform first, Master Herwald." Leysritt suggested calmly, the Homunculi diligently guiding their young master away from the Bank, where his statement had drawn a few looks of surprise.

Herwald muttered something unintelligible in German, but complied, allowing himself to be shepherded away from the bank, the maids alongside him and Rider bringing up the rear, the three women drawing appreciative looks from the Wizards in the crowd, especially Rider, whose pullover and jeans only seemed to accentuate her figure, much to the chagrin of several married witches in the crowd.

The group made their way, after some instructions from an eager to please shop-hand, towards a nearby store that bore the auspicious name of 'Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions', where a squat, witch dressed in mauve, possibly the Madame herself, greeted him with a kind smile.

"Hogwarts, dear?" she asked, only to pause briefly as she took in the boy's appearance. While the clothes were far too Muggle to be considered Wizarding Fashion, she knew good cloth when she saw it, and Harry's clothing had been tailored by the finest seamstresses in the Einzbern Family, one of Leysritt's elder sisters if memory served.

"Indeed, Madame." Herwald greeted, returning the woman's greeting with a polite nod, noting her blink at his slight Germanic accent "I will be attending Hogwarts as a first year this fall, and would greatly appreciate your help with outfitting me with school robes."

"Well you've certainly come to the right place, young sir." Madam Malkin responded, clearly flattered with the young man's polite respect, so rare in youth's today "In fact we have another young man being fitted up just now. If you'd care to follow me..."

Herwald nodded, allowing the squat woman to shepherd him towards the back of the shop, where a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. Following the Madam's instruction and stepping onto an identical stool next to the boy, Herwald allowed her to slip a long black robe over his head, simply ignoring her as she began to pin it to the right length.

"Hello," the boy greeted, turning to glance at Herwald despite the younger witch's protests for him to remain still "So you're headed to Hogwarts, too?"

Herwald suppressed the urge to grimace at the boy's bored, drawling voice, only half pretending to listen as he droned on about his parents, racing brooms, and his intentions of smuggling one past the wards of Hogwarts. "Have _you _got your own broom?" the boy went on, to which Herwald responded with a gruff shake of his head "Play Quidditch at all?"

"We have no time for games in my family." Herwald replied pointedly, which was true, as the Einzberns were NOT known for their interactivities, unless duelling and backstabbing and plotting to usurp one another counted.

"_I _do." The boy continued, as if that was all that mattered "Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?" he shrugged at Herwald's silence "Well, no one really knows until they get there, but I know I'll be in Slytherin. All our family have been." He grimaced as if taken ill "Imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

'I'm seriously starting to regret my decision to go in the first place.' Herwald muttered, resisting the urge to grab the hem of the boy's robe and transmute the damn thing into a straight-jacket and gag to shut the little prick up, he doubted Madam Malkin would appreciate his assault on a paying customer. Fortunately, the Madam herself soon announced Harry was finished, allowing him to pay for the robes and leave the store, letting out an agitated breath the minute the door shut behind him.

"Everything alright, Herwald-kun?" Rider asked, the voluptuous Female Servant stepping away from the wall she'd been leaning against as she waited for him to emerge, earning moans of displeasure from her admirers, who she ignored "You're looking pretty tense."

"It's nothing." Herwald assured her, letting loose a sigh as he shook his head, it wouldn't do to hold the boy's actions against him, he was clearly spoiled, if his mother's fussing over him as they met was any indication, and didn't know any better "Let's just get this over with."

Rider said nothing, merely fell into step behind the young lord as they travelled to Flourish and Blotts' bookstore to pick up Herwald's textbooks, along with a few choice alchemical texts and 'recommended reading' that Herwald thought the others might enjoy. Rider even picked up a few novels to read, having already exhausted Shirou's meager library beforehand, and Rin was proving to be as stingy as usual.

Walking along the street, his nose buried in a copy of '_Curses and Countercurses' _by Professor Vindictus Viridian, the young Lord allowed Leysritt and her fellow Homunculus to pick up the listed potions ingredients and his cauldron, going the extra mile to pay for an enchantment that would keep it from melting, making sure to stock up on some of the ingredients that WEREN'T part of his standard potions list, as he had no doubt Rin would love the chance to experiment with them, Unicorn horns being hard to come by in Japan.

"I think that's almost everything." Rider noted, ticking off the list whilst adjusting her glasses, which kept her infamous Magic Eyes at bay "All that's left is your wand."

Herwald grumbled, looking annoyed at the idea of such an out-dated concept still being in effect. While wand-lore WAS a staple part of spell-crafting, no self-respecting Magus worth his salt would limit himself to something that could be so easily lost, broken or stolen. Most of them that chose to use a Mystic Code chose more practical objects, like a ring, or a dagger, something that could be easily concealed but could easily double as a weapon if the need arose. Emiya Kiritsugu had used a gun as His Mystic Code, though whether Shirou possessed it or it had been lost during the 4th Heaven's Feel was unknown, as like his crest, Kiritsugu certainly hadn't passed it down to the redhead.

After some grudging enquiries, they were at last directed to a narrow, shabby shop at the end of Diagon Alley with a single wand resting on a faded pillow behind the dusty store window. 'Ollivanders:' Herwald read, noting with disgust that the gold letters over the door were peeling from age and lack of care 'Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C…certainly looks it.'

Shaking his head at this latest farce he was forced to endure, the young Lord pushed open the doorway, the tinkling of a bell somewhere in the depths of the shop alerting the proprietor to his presence while Herwald eyed the tiny, almost empty space with disapproval. It reminded him a little of a smaller version of the Einzbern family Library, save that instead of books, the walls were lined with thousands of narrow boxes, piled neatly right up to the ceiling. The back of his neck prickled, his fingers twitching at the feel of the ambient magic in the little store, some of his annoyance fading away, as it would appear that while the store itself was a joke, its contents were undeniably the real deal.

"I would advise not sneaking up behind me in future." He spoke up, turning to face the startled old man that appeared behind him "My guardians are rather protective, and I would prefer not to explain to the authorities why they saw the need to beat the local wand maker to a pulp for startling them."

Ollivander, if it was indeed him, blinked at the boy's statement, his pale, moon-like eyes turning to regard the two Homunculi through the gloom of the shop, only to freeze at the sight of Rider, averting his eyes when the Servant narrowed her own. "Ah yes." He stammered, clearly unnerved by whatever he'd seen in the Servant's stare "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter."

"With all due respect, Herr Ollivander," Herwald cut in, his eye narrowing at the name "my name is Herwald von Einzbern," Ollivander jumped at the name "And I would prefer it if you referred to me as such."

"Einzbern?" Ollivander repeated, once again looking gobsmacked, an expression he was clearly more used to inspiring in other people as he gaped at the boy-who-lived-to-give-people-shocks "Of the Black Forests of Germany? THOSE Einzberns?"

"It would appear you've heard of us." Herwald noted, unable to help the typical, Einzbern smirk that adorned his features "Indeed I was adopted into the Einzbern family shortly after my parents' deaths. However, due to my parents' registering me for Hogwarts at birth, it would appear I shall be attending this year, and so require a wand." He narrowed his eyes at the man "I have been led to believe you are the finest wand maker in the British Isles, I trust you to not to waste my time then."

"Indeed…" Ollivander murmured, regaining his momentum, somewhat, thanks to Herwald's deliberate stoking of his ego, his pale eyes glancing nervously towards Rider as the Servant stood with her arms crossed beneath her breasts "Indeed, I am the best wand maker in all of Britain," he drew himself up proudly "I remember every wand I've ever sold, such as your mothers: Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work." He glanced at Herwald warily "You have her eyes you know, though you resemble your father more, good man James Potter, favoured a mahogany wand: Eleven inches, pliable, a little more power and excellent for transfiguration…"

"I would prefer it if you stayed on track, Herr Ollivander." Herwald pointed out coldly, allowing just a touch of frost to enter his tone "While I appreciate your love of your craft, knowing what my parents' wands were serves me no relevant purpose, and my time is precious."

Ollivander's mouth snapped shut with a click, the old man casting a wary look towards the young Lord, only to recoil at the impatience in those emerald green orbs, looking away hurriedly, only to blink as his eyes alighted on the scar on the boy's forehead. "Ah yes…" he breathed, reaching out with a long, white finger to touch the scar, only to freeze as he caught Rider tense out the corner of his eye "I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did that." he admitted, shaking his head in shame "Thirteen-and-a-half inches, yew, powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands… well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do…"

"What's done is done, Herr Ollivander." Herwald countered, not wanting the old man to go off on a DIFFERENT tangent "I dare say if his mother had known what Voldemort was destined to become, she would have drowned him at birth."

Ollivander flinched, though whether it was at Herwald's use of the Dark Lord's moniker or his casual suggestion of Infanticide was unknown, the old man instead deciding that it would be best to get the boy out of his shop as quickly as possible. "Well then Mr Pott-EINZBERN." He corrected himself at Herwald's pointed scowl, pulling a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"

"I'm ambidextrous." Herwald replied promptly, which wasn't strictly true, he had simply been trained to use both hands to such an exent it didn't matter "At least in regards to magic, if you're asking which hand I write with, then my right."

Ollivander blinked at the unusual response, before shrugging, passing it off as an 'Einzbern thing', instead proceeding to measure the youth from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round his head.

"Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Master Einzbern." The old man explained, leaving the tape to keep measuring as he turned towards the boxes lining the walls of his store "We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."

'If I could help it I wouldn't bother with a wand at ALL.' Herwald scowled, swatting the tape measure, which had been measuring between his nostrils, aside, shooting a glare a Rider, who was chuckling in amusement at his predicament, even as Ollivander approached with several boxes under his arm.

* * *

_Many Wands Lay-ter..._

The next few moments, in Herwald's opinion, could almost be described as funny, were it happening to anyone else. No matter how many wands the old man produced, he would snatch them back almost immediately before Herwald could even give them a proper wave. Rider certainly found the entire situation laughable, her eyes glinting with amusement as she leaned against the store wall, a sentiment that was shared with Ollivander, who seemed to grow all the happier the more wands he pulled from the shelves.

"Tricky customer, eh?" he muttered, looking for all the world like the oldest child in the world that had finally been allowed in a candy store "Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere… he paused, stroking his chin in thought as his ale eyes danced "I wonder now…" he muttered, pulling out another box "yes, why not, an unusual combination: Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

Herwald took the proffered wand, and at that moment, the very air in the dusty old shop seemed to hold its breath as he raised it in the air, only for the suspense to fail as he brought it down again with no apparent reaction whatsoever.

"Hmm…no?" Ollivander wondered, looking at the wand in surprise, as if he'd honestly expected something different to happen this time around "I could have sworn…" he sighed in defeat "Oh well, I'm sorry Master Einzbern, but it would appear you are a little more special than most. I have NEVER had such a difficult customer before."

"Your flattery serves you ill, Herr Ollivander." Herwald muttered, tossing the Holly wand aside with a look of annoyance, wondering why on earth he felt like he'd missed something important "It does not change the fact I STILL do not possess a wand."

"Be that as it may sir, that is the last wand in my shop." Ollivander revealed, shrugging his shoulders with a reserved expression "The only alternative I can think of is for me to craft you a personal wands, though finding the right materials for the core alone could take months…"

He trailed off, Herwald looking up to see that Rider had left her spot on the wall and had walked up beside him, an unreadable expression on the Gorgon's face. As the two males looked on, she ran her fingers through her long, purple hair, selecting a single one from her head, plucking it daintily. "Rider?" Herwald wondered, looking up at the Servant in surprise, only for her to smile coyly, raising a finger to her lips even as she held the hair out to the stunned Ollivander.

"Will THIS be enough for you, wand maker?" she demanded, and Herwald couldn't help but shiver at the not-so-subtle hiss in her tone as she peered into the old man's eyes, her square pupils evident for him to see up close.

"Y-yes…" Ollivander breathed, accepting the proffered hair, holding it in both hands as if it were his new-born child a look of wonder on his face "M-more than enough…I'll begin work right away…" he shook his head at Herwald reached for his coin pouch "Keep your money young master…for the honour of crafting a wand from THIS is payment enough."

Herwald quirked a brow, glancing up at Rider, who merely smiled knowingly at him in response, Ollivander telling them to pop around to pick up the wand some time before September 1st, as it would be read by then, the shop door slamming shut and locking itself as they left, a 'closed' sign appearing in the window.

* * *

_Outside Ollivanders..._

"Glad to be out of there." Rider muttered, the Servant stretching her arms above her head, an act that drew more than a few stares to her bust, several poor Wizards having unfortunate collisions with their fellows, street fixtures, and in one unfortunate case, a barrel of dragon dung "Wand Makers, they always have to play the drama queen, same sad story no matter WHAT age you come from."

Herwald said nothing, simply walking alongside the youngest Gorgon, regarding her with his emerald eyes. He knew the importance of a core in wandlore, but for someone like Medusa to willingly part with a hair from her head to supply the core for HIS…

"I know what you're thinking, Herwald-kun." The Servant spoke up, startling the youth out of his thoughts to see her smiling coyly down at him "Think nothing of it, a hair is a small price to pay, compared to everything you've done for Sakura and myself."

"I only did what was right at the time." Herwald protested, though he couldn't help the warm feeling the former monster's words inspired in him. Ever since he'd been young he'd been regarded a failure at worst, a weapon at best. To learn he'd helped someone, even a former enemy, find happiness, gave him a feeling he couldn't quite describe, but which Shirou, apparently, could relate to.

"So did I." Rider replied, smiling coyly at the boy "Though if you want to make it up to me, don't get an owl as your pet." Her features turned cold as she glared at Eyelops Owl Emporium, the feathered occupants ruffling their feathers at her ominously, clearly intimidated "I don't like owls."

Knowing the relation between the birds and the Goddess Athena, whose machinations lead to the Gorgon sisters becoming what they were, Herwald didn't complain, figuring there would be plenty of time to look for a familiar when he WASN'T bogged down with his studies.

That sorted, they gathered in front of Gringotts, taking hold of the beer stein once again, the portkey sending them back to the Emiya estate with only mild discomfort, arriving just in time to get their shopping out of sight before Taiga got home from work, the entire makeshift family settling down for another fine meal courtesy of Shirou's epic, Servant worthy really, cooking skills.

* * *

And there's Chapter 3.

For those wondering why the Phoenix wand rejected Herwald, it's because while he's VERY simillar to a young Tom, (Powerfull, Ambituous) He's subtly different enough from his canon self that the wand just didn't click. That, and i wanted an excuse to have Rider give him a hair. Think about it, a Wand with a Single hair from a GORGON, the Legendary Medusa, as it's core? That's pretty damn close to noble Phantasm material in my opinion, and if Bazette can wield one, why not Herwald? (Yes, Fragarach is a Noble Phantasm wielded by mortals, apparently it belonged to Cu Chullain (Sp?) at one point, and was probably what she used to summon Lancer in the first place.)

Also the reason Herald scowled at Ollivander's referring to him as 'Mr. Potter' yet not Ragnok's referencing him as 'Lord Potter' is because, again, of upbringing.

With goblins, titles mean everything, to cast aside a title is to forgo whatever respect it could have afforded you. The Potters were an old-blood familly of notable influence, it stands to reason the name would have considerable clout, surpassed only by the Blacks, who are an ANCIENT Noble house, but we'll get to that later.

As such, he doesn't like being addressed as Harry Potter, in his opinion, Harry Potter died the night Kiritsugu picked him up as a boy. He'll put up with being Lord Potter for the sake of the power it affords him.

As for the Perverelle and Kay inheritances, well he IS a descendent of the brothers after all, if my little hint on the Potter Ring wasn't hint enough. Tehnically, Voldemort could have claimed this inheritence as well, possibly, though I prefer to think that Salazaar happened across the ring by chance and his descendents passed it down. As the Brother who owned the ring died alone and childless, like the Brother with the Wand. Only the Cloak bearer lived a long, happy life, and went into death's embrace willingly after passing the cloak down.

And the Kay Ring? Well, let's just say that factors into the story a LOT later. You could consider this ANOTHER Noble Phantasm really, as it's imbued with Magic that enabled Kay to act as Arturia's 'officer of the law', protecting her secrets fromt those that would seek to harm his 'brother' and king.

This CAN be considered his canon personality, as while later scripts portray Sir Kay as a boorish, stupid, self-serving sort, earlier scripts portray him as loyal to Arthur and his cause, though prideful. The only reason Arturia never 'beat' him in a duel growing up was because he'd come up with all manner of excuses like 'i'm still alive so you didn't beat me' or 'you threw away your shield, I win', according to Type-Moon wiki, but Arturia honestly loved her brother and he in turn was loyal and protective of her secret (though this may have had something to do with Merlin threatening him, as Kay IS noted in both versions to not always be the most cautious of speakers).

Next chapter will be the trip to the Express and Hogwarts, where Herwald will encounter the Weasleys, and Shirou will become the Twins' new role model.

Again, any suggestions for Herwald's Harem should be made in a review, or PM me if you prefer. Again, I must insist you give GOOD reasons for including them, don't just go 'Lololol Harryx(insert generic female name here) FTW. Shirou and Shiki's Harems were the resut of their honestly interacting with the women in their lives, drawing them in with their masculine charms and the laws of Nasuverese (No male protagonist shall be without a harem. So sayeth Nasu._ Book of Nasu; somewhere in the Middle; next to the rather amusing pictogram_.)

Though I may consider a Taiga/Sirius pairing, if only for the sheer crack potential. It seems that the Potter interest in 'Pretty Asian Birds' run's in the Black Familly too ;3

If you have a particular pairing you'd like me to consider, let me know, but don't expect any action for a while. Herwald's ELEVEN people. He's not a bag of raging hormones yet, even if Magi develop earlier than mundanes.

Also, need I remind you that, appearance aside, Illyasviel is EIGHTEEN, older than Shirou Sakura AND Rin. She spent most of her life with Herwald, she watched him grow up, they're the closest things to siblings they could get in the Einzbern castle (The other Homunculi don't count, they're different models), so don't ask me to pair them up, no matter how cute the pairing is.

Besides, if i did, the guys that rant on and on about the illusive 'Ilya path' will lynch me.

Till then, let the Wheel of Fate Turn...


	5. Chapter 4: Journey to Hogwarts

Chapter Four, just because I can.

Medic: Achtung, we have more questions!

Heavy: Oh no! This is bad!

Kyugan: Relax big guy, go have a sandwich, I got this.

Heavy: SANDVICH! (dashes off, leaving heavy shaped space in the air)

Kyugan: Now then, let's see here.

1. I don't know much about Kara no Kyoukai, but if it's Nasu, the male protagonist has a harem.

2. Rider is with Shirou, Hollow Atraxia proves this. She just thinks Herwald's cute is all.

3. While Herwald's 'Gorgon Wand' COULD be considered Noble Phantasm Material, he still needs to master it before it can become such. For the moment, I'd say D-rank (Most of Shirou's unnamed blades), with the potential to become A-rank.

4. The Elder Wand was created by Death himself. DEATH, with a capital D, the person people meet if, Deus Ex Machina aside, they die when they're killed. Herwald's wand has a rare core, but Ollivanders is a mortal. So I'd say S-rank, bordering on EX rank, depending on the user (D-rank for Moldievoldie, since he never 'earned' the wand from it's master)

5. Yes, the Nasu Protagonists could slaughter the denizens of the potterverse, it's the law of fiction, Protagonists ALWAYS decimate the minor characters in a fight. The rankings simply show where they stand in terms of MANA power and experience.

Shirou and Shiki could REAM an army of death nibblers, but against some of the more experienced members, against the sheer mutlitde of spells, they'd have a had time of it. Likewise, Dumbledore and Voldemort aren't pushovers, the fight in the ministry alone was worthy of a CGI render in my opinion. Zelretch pushed the MOON back into orbit through sheer power alone, enough said.

But this isn't about THEM, this is about Herwald, and how his return to the 'traditional' wzarding world is going to make a lot of people very very angry. The Nasu characters will only be mentioned in passing throughout the series, referenced, maybe the occasional cutscene, but this is Herwald's story (Lol Auron), and they play only a minor part in it for the most part. At least until the final battles.

6. And finally, yes, the Einzberns adopted Harry, but they used the MUNDANE (Muggle) method to avoid alerting Dumbles and the Ministry that the boy had left the country. The 'Blood Wards' Dumbledore placed on no.4 bonded to Petunia and Dudley, so as far as Dumbles knows, Harry is being spoiled rotten by his aunt. Mrs. Figg never sees the boy leave the house, but then without Harry to dump on her doorstep, the Dursleys have no reason to associate with the 'creepy cat woman down the street', so no help there.

So, in the eyes of the British MUGGLE government, Herwald is legally an Einzbern, though still a british citizen. As a Wizard, however, he's still Harry 'How the hell is he still alive' Potter. and they expect him to be their bitch when the time comes around.

Medic: Ach, Schweinhunds the lot of them.

Scout: I'm gonna headbutt them!

Kyugan: Easy guys, there'll be time for Fudgicles later, that said, the Wheel of Fate is Turning, let's see what this Shift in the Continuum had wrought...

* * *

Journey to Hogwarts.

The last month leading up to Herwald's trip back to Britain was one of the best he'd ever had, though also one of the worst.

Illyasviel was inconsolable that he was going off without her, despite the fact, as a teenager, she was no longer eligible for normal schooling, never mind the fact that she possessed all the memories of her predecessors as a 'Justica' Model Homunculi, and so had no real NEED for schooling.

It was understandable really, the two of them had never been separated for very long outside their respective training prior to the 5th Grail War, and Illyasviel didn't enjoy the idea of him going overseas where she couldn't help him. Herwald had promised to keep in contact with her, but that didn't change the fact he was going to be gone for almost a year, with little chance of visiting for the holidays due to Jubstacheit being stingy with the Portkeys.

Shirou had appreciated the Magical textbooks his sibling had purchased for him, particularly the Wizarding history textbooks, allowing him to read up on several key figures in the magical world, not wanting to appear to ignorant should he bump into another magus, though of course, he'd required either Rider, Sakura, or Rin to read them to him until he learned more of the English language, endeavouring to pay closer attention in English class this coming semester.

With little else to do, other than practice his magic to keep his circuits from stagnating, sparring with Shirou in the dojo, or conversing with Rin over the many, many out-dated practices of British Wizards, Herwald spent most of his time simply hanging around his family, Illyasviel in particular, wanting to be with them for as long as possible.

And so it was, on the evening of the last day of august, Herwald placed his belongings in a trunk, a gift from Rin no less, the entire group gathering to touch the portkey Jubstacheit sent through for the occasion, all of them wanting to send the boy off on his journey this time.

They appeared outside Gringotts bank once again, Shirou looking decidedly green in the face, not being used to magical travel. While Rin, Sakura, Illyasviel and the maids took him off to the nearby Pub to recover, Rider and Herwald opted to stop by Ollivander to pick up the latter's wand, Ollivander having sent them a letter informing them it was ready, but had steadfastly refused to risk sending such a 'precious' thing by mail.

While initially annoyed by the old man's drama, Rider's hair aside, it was just a piece of wood, Herwald had to admit, when he actually SAW the wand, that it was indeed a work of art, something that DESERVED all the pomp and ceremony the old man was giving it.

"I am done and undone…" Ollivander kept repeating, the man's pale eyes strangely distant as he watched Herwald pick the wand up from the box as if it were his first born "Eldar Wood, Thirteen inches, with a single hair from a GORGON for a core…" he sighed lovingly "I may never craft a finer wand."

Herwald snorted, though he had to agree with the man, as while Eldar wood was a scarcity in itself, Rider wasn't likely to be volunteering any more hairs any time soon. That thought side, he tightened his grip on the wand, noting with interest that it was warm to the touch, and seemed to fit perfectly into his hand. Giving it a wave, he couldn't help but blink at the trail of silvery sparks that trailed in its wake, cascading to the shop floor like stars from the sky.

"Well done Master Einzbern." Ollivander applauded dreamily, looking both pleased and mournful as his masterwork found its master "Normally I would claim the wand chooses the wizard…" he smiled, a heartfelt smile that was equal parts joyous and mournful "but I believe in this case, the two of you have chosen one another."

Herwald had nodded, leaving a small stack of Galleons despite the old man's protests, citing that, while it came nowhere near enough to cover the cost of the wand, it would at least allow the man to fix his store up, and thus bring in more customers. Ollivander had merely nodded solemnly, before going back to muttering 'done and undone' under his breath as the trio took their leave.

They caught up with the rest of the group at the Leaky Cauldron, which was the only passage between Diagon Alley and the rest of London apparently, where Rin had managed to call up a pair of magical taxis to bring them to London.

It was an experience itself, as the taxis were larger on the inside than they appeared, and despite the recklessness of the drivers, and the fact that obstacles seemed to leap out of their way, none of the London pedestrians seemed to notice them as they raced past, Illyasviel cheering excitedly while Shirou looked decidedly green, stumbling gratefully out of the magical vehicle as they pulled into the parking lot at King's Cross station at half past ten precisely.

* * *

_King's Cross Parking Lot..._

"Honestly Shirou." Rin sighed, shaking her head in exasperation as her apprentice/lover emptied what little breakfast he'd managed to keep in him from the portkey into a nearby trash can "If you keep this up you'll NEVER make it as a Magus."

"Sorry." The redhead offered, smiling apologetically as he accepted the wipes handed to him by Leysritt, Sella sniffing in disapproval off to the side, while Sakura rubbed his back comfortingly "We have time before the train right?"

"About half an hour to spare." Rin admitted, sighing in exasperation, a look of bemusement on her features as she eyed the redhead "Good thing Herwald noticed the platform number before the driver left, or we'd be in REAL trouble."

Naturally, Herwald had wondered if the typing on the ticket had been a mistake, after all, what self-respecting designer would name a platform 'Nine and Three-Quarters'? But there it was in the traditional Hogwarts Emerald Ink, bold as brass and just as messed up as the rest of the British Wizarding World.

"So all we have to do is pass through the barrier when no-one's looking, right?" Shirou wondered, the redhead eyeing the uncomfortably solid looking brick wall with understandable trepidation "You sure that's the right one?"

"It's between platforms nine and ten, Sempai." Sakura pointed out, smiling reassuringly at the elder boy as she gripped his hand, both to comfort his nerves as well as her own.

"It's the place." Rider assured them, her eyes narrowed behind her spectacles "It's faint, but I can detect a slight barrier that's forcing people to look away." She allowed a cold smirk to adorn her features "And I can smell them…"

The males shivered at the female Servant's admittance, knowing first hand that, as Medusa, she'd been little more than a mindless monster, thirsting for human blood. While Rider showed no signs of reverting to her monstrous visage any time soon, she made it abundantly clear that she was still the Gorgon of legend from time to time.

"We go in on three." Rin ordered, her tone commanding, though it was clear from her tense shoulders she was bracing herself "Shirou, you and Herwald-kun go first with the luggage, the rest of us will follow through."

Herwald snorted, knowing all too well that Rin simply wanted to make sure the barrier was actually THERE, rather than risk running into it and making an ass of herself. A valid strategy, and were he not one of the guinea pigs, he might applaud her for it, nonetheless, after making sure that the coast was clear, he nodded to Shirou, the two of them gripping the trolley and charging full speed at the barrier, bracing instinctively for the crash that never came, the two of them looking up in wonder at the large scarlet steam engine that was waiting next to a platform packed with people.

"Sugoi…" Shirou whispered, once again enewaed by the magical world he belonged to, looking back over his shoulder to peer at the wrought-iron archway where the barrier had been, with the words '_Platform Nine and Three-Quarters' _hanging over it. While Herwald hid it well, he had to admit he was impressed with the barrier. It took considerable skill to set up a bounded field that not only hid a magical location, but discouraged those that WEREN'T magically inclined from approaching.

"Huh…" Rin noted, the girls following through one at a time, the Tohsaka heir's brow quirked as she examined the platform before her "So it was real after all…how interesting."

"Oooh! Kitties!" Illyasviel noted, the deceptively young Einzbern's scarlet eyes widening at the sight of the multitude of felines, every breed and colour, that were prowling around the platform, winding between the legs of the people gathered, while Owls hooted to one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks.

"Looks like we made it just in time." Rin noted, her eyes locking onto the first few carriages which were already packed with students, some of whom were hanging out of the windows to talk to their families, while others seemed to be fighting over seating arrangements "We better move if you want to find a seat."

They pressed on, walking past a round-faced boy that was complaining about his lost toad and a boy with dreadlocks that had apparently snuck a tarantula onto the train, until they finally found an empty compartment near the end of the train.

* * *

_Hogwarts Express..._

Shirou, deciding to let Herwald have a little more time to say his goodbyes, opted to board the train with the boy's luggage, using his reinforcement magic to carry the heavy weight without any trouble, stowing it away in the overhead compartment with a relieved smile, only to blink as a large hand landed on his shoulder.

"Here Fred, where'd you get the new clothes?" A friendly voice called out, Shirou turning to find a younger redheaded boy standing behind him "Blimey mate, sorry about that," the younger redhead offered, looking surprised _"Thought you were my brother for a second there."_

"You call my name, brother mine?" a teasing voice called out, Shirou's eyes widening as another redhead, perfectly identical to the first, down to the mischevious grin, appeared in the hallway, looking the confused Magus over with interest "Who's this then?"

"Dunno, bumped into him thinking he was YOU." The first twin admitted, a teasing look on his face "Don't know how I could've made that mistake, he isn't half as ugly as you are."

"If I'm ugly what does that make you?" the second twin countered, elbowing his double before smiling at Shirou "Don't mind him mate, he's just jealous because I got the looks."

_"Ah, sorry?"_ Shirou stammered, looking between the pair in confusion, wondering what on earth they were saying, wishing like hell he'd paid more attention during English class "Can-I-help-you?" he hazarded, wincing at how broken he sounded.

"'ere George, I don't think he can understand us." The second twin noted, blinking at the elder teen in surprise "Can't understand HIM for that matter neither."

"Maybe he's a foreign Transfer student…" the first one noted, turning to look at Shirou, taking in his features carefully "Look, his eyes are kinda like that Chang bird from Ravenclaw." He turned to Shirou with a frown "No offense mate, but can you speak English?"

"A Little." Shirou admitted, glad to be making SOME headway at last, placing a hand over his heart and bowing slightly in greeting "My Name is Emi…"he paused, remembering that the British used their Family name LAST"Sorry, Shirou Emiya."

"Making headway at last." The first twin noted with a smirk "I'm George Weasley._"_ He introduced, tapping his chest for emphasis "And the paragon of handsomeness here is my talented twin…"

"Fred Weasley." The Second twin finished, smiling and holding out a hand, Shirou remembering at the last second to shake it, doing the same to George "So, going to Hogwarts?"

"No."Shirou countered, the elder redhead catching the word 'Hogwarts' and realizing they were asking if he was a student "Little Brother. First Year."

"Ah, a fellow sufferer of the purgatory known as younger siblings." Fred noted, making a dramatic expression that George mirrored perfectly "We've got a little brother joining this year too. He's a runty little prat, but blood's thicker than water and all that." He looked around with interest "So where is he?"

_"Shirou are you there?"_ Herwald called out, the elder magus turning in relief to see his step-brother clambering onto the train, having apparently finished saying his goodbyes_ "Rin's getting impatient, you'd better…"_ he turned to look at the twins _"Who're these?"_

"Blimey Fred I think there's something wrong with my ears." George muttered, rubbing the offending organs in question as he blinked dimly "Couldn't understand a word of that."

"My apologies." Herwald countered, slipping into slightly accented English as he eyed the two redheads carefully "I was merely informing my Step-brother that his girlfriends are getting impatient." He turned to Shirou _"I'd hurry if I were you; Rin-san's already tapping her foot."_

"Girlfriends?" Fred repeated, the twins looking at one another in confusion, even as Shirou swallowed, as the only times Rin showed physical signs of irritation were when she was REALLY annoyed, as in 'grievous bodily harm' annoyed "As in plural?"

"Sumimasen!" Shirou offered, bowing his head to the twins apologetically "Sorry, Fred-san, George-san, I need go!" he turned to Herwald, switching back to japanese _"You be safe, alright? Write to us when you get there."_

_"I will." _Herwald assured the older magus, smiling up at him even as he hugged the older boy around the waist, earning a round of 'awes' from the twins_ "Now go on, before Rin-san gives Illyasviel a reason to kill her."_

Shirou chuckled weakly, knowing that WASN'T an idle threat, sort of, ruffing Herwald's messy black hair, offering another polite bow to the twins before literally leaping off the train, the twins following him with their eyes, which widened as they landed on the women waiting for him.

"Bloody hell Gred…" George whispered, torn between shock and amazement as he gaped at Rin, who was tearing into Shirou without concern for the crowd they were gathering, while Sakura tried to get her to calm down "Check out that lot!"

"Believe me Forge I'm looking." Fred stammered, the other redhead's wide eyes travelling from the Tohsaka siblings to Illyasviel, Leysritt and Sella in growing respect and disbelief "Bloody hell, he's even got VEELA with him!"

"Actually, those are my familly's servants." Herwald corrected, the twins turning to see the dark haired boy regarding them with less than amused emerald eyes for oggling the maids, who he considered familly "And for your information, the one in the middle is our sister."

"You've got a Veela for a sister?" Fred wondered, missing the look of exasperation on Herwald's face when he turned to look back at Illyasviel as she threw herself at Shirou, hugging him around the neck despite his protests "Friendly little thing isn't she?"

"She is." Herwald admitted, the youth smiling longingly at the deceptively young looking girl, even as she spotted him in the doorway and waved, calling out to him in German, to which he replied in kind, earning looks of confusion from the twins.

"Bloody hell, how many languages do you people speak?" Fred muttered, the two redheaded twins looking torn between confusion and being impressed with the boy "I mean, what was that other language before?"

"Japanese." Herwald supplied, not looking at the twins as he continued to wave at his family, who returned the wave with sad smiles "My Step-brother is Japanese, though our sister and myself were raised in Germany."

"Wicked." George noted, a sudden thought suddenly occuring to him as he turned and nudged his equally impressed twin, a wide grin forming on his face "Hey, is it true that they hold Beer Festivals there every year?"

"Oktoberfest." Herwald admitted, nodding his head dismissively, as he didn't really care for the festival much, as he'd never been invited before "My family is actually one of the premiere distillers in the old country, most of our fortune comes from our ale."

"I think we just made a new friend for life, brother." Fred noted, the twins eyes glittering with mischief as they smiled at the younger boy "Fred Weasley, pleased to meet you, and the dashing fellow beside me is my brother George."

"Herwald von Einzbern." Herwald returned politely, it was only good manners to introduce yourself after another after all, only to blink at the sudden silence, turning to find the two redheads eyeing him with stunned surprise "Is something the matter?"

"Einzbern…" Fred repeated, looking torn between sock and wonderment "You mean THOSE Einzberns? The ones from the Black Forest?"

"That's where the Family Castle is, yes." Herwald agreed, understanding dawning as he realized the reasons for their discomfort "Though if it's any comfort, I'm adopted."

"Oh it isn't that mate." George assured him hurriedly, flushing red with shame "I mean, sure the fact your related to THOSE Einzberns is a shock, but as our dad always says you shouldn't judge a book by its cover."

"Which isn't really an issue for us" Fred snickered, elbowing his twin "since we've never opened a textbook if we could get away with it."

Herwald snorted, unable to help himself. There was just something about the twins that made him want to smile. The fact their red hair and friendly demeanour reminded him vaguely of Shirou helped too, only to look up as a woman's voice called out for the twins.

"Cripes that's mum." Fred muttered, turning to Herwald apologetically "Listen, Herwald, bloody hell that's an awkward name, you mind if I call you Harry?" He continued at Herald's hesitant nod "Listen Harry, we'll come chat more later, but right now we have to say goodbye to our mum."

"She'll probably want to warn us not to blow up anymore toilets." George snickered, winking deviously at Herwald as he spoke "May as well let her tell us off one last time before we slip away for another year."

And with that they left, leaving Herwald staring after them in bemusement, the teen disembarking again to share one last farewell with his family before he had to go. After a few minutes, the train began to move, Herwald turning to board it after one last round of hugs, even Rin deigning to give him one, though she flushed at the parting kiss he left on her cheek, the adoptive Einzbern doing the same for the other girls, shaking Shirou's hand before boarding the train and entering his compartment, waving at them out the window as the train pulled away, Illyasviel and a redheaded girl chasing after it, torn between laughter and tears, only stopping as they ran out of platform, the train's speed soon picking up until finally, it had left London far behind.

* * *

_Hogwarts Express, hours later..._

Herwald was nose deep in an alchemical tome, having grown tired of watching the houses and countryside through the window, when the door of the compartment slid open and freckled, redheaded boy around his age sidled in, lugging a battered trunk behind him.

"Anyone sitting there?" the boy asked, pointing at the seat opposite Harry with a nervous, hopeful expression on his freckled face "Everywhere else is full."

Herwald shook his head, turning back to his book as the redhead sighed in relief, all but collapsing onto the opposite seat, just as the door to the compartment slid open again, heralding the returns of the twins.

"Wotcher Harry." Fred, 'or was it George?', greeted, grinning at the adoptive Einzbern, before turning to face the younger redhead "Oh, there you are Ron. Harry this is out ickle brother Ronniekins, but we call him runt for short."

"Naff off Fred." The freckled boy muttered, glaring at his brother in annoyance, even as the tips of his ears turned a bright pink.

"Watch your tongue there Ronniekins, or you might just find yourself locked in the girls bathroom with a firework." George 'Or was it Fred?' teased, "Anyway, if you want us, we'll be down the middle of the train; Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there."

"Keep an eye on him for us, would you Harry?" the other twin asked, Herwald giving up all attempts at distinguishing them for the moment "He's an annoying little prat but mum will have our guts for garters if he gets jinxed before he even gets sorted."

"Whatever." Herwald muttered, turning back to his book as the twins slid the compartment door shut behind them, though no sooner had they disappeared did he feel the weight of their brother's stare on him "Yes. Herr Weasley?"

"Um…" Ron stammered, unnerved by the Einzbern youths faint German accent and his shocking, Emerald Green Eyes "My brother called you…Harry?"

"They seem to have some trouble with pronouncing my name," Herwald admitted, shrugging his shoulders dismissively, as if used to it "In the end I let them call me Harry."

"O-Oh." Ron stammered, looking disappointed for some reason, only to recover admirably, clearly wanting to say SOMETHING to beak the monotonous silence "I'm Ron by the way, Ron Weasley."

"Herwald von Einzbern." Herwald introduced, turning the page of his book, not even bothering to look up at the boy' sharp intake of breath "Yes, THOSE Einzberns, though I myself am adopted."

"Oh blimey…" Ron muttered, looking torn between shock and wonderment "I thought Fred and George were having me on…I mean, an Einzbern at Hogwarts?" he flinched "No offence meant."

"None taken, Herr Weasley." Herwald assured him, turning the page again, having come to a particularly interesting section on medical transmutation "It is quite understandable that the world perceives the Einzbern name with caution, many of our family have proven less…scrupulous, in their recent endeavours."

"Too right they have." Ron muttered darkly, only to shake himself, looking the dark haired boy up and down inquisitively "So what's it like? I mean, where do you live?"

Herwald sighed, realizing that he wasn't likely to get reading his book until he at last attempted civil conversation with the boy "I grew up in the Einzbern Ancestral Castle in the Black Forests of Germany." He shivered at the memory "It was always cold, even in summer, cold and depressing and devoid of comfort."

Ron leaned in, listening intently to the tale, as it wasn't often you got an inside peak at how a Wizarding family of the Einzbern's Calibre lived. "Most of the family ignored me, seeing me as a 'stray' that had wandered in." Herwald continued "The only exception were the castle staff and my Sister, Illyasviel."

"That's the Veela girl, right?" Ron asked, flushing slightly at the look Herwald shot him "I saw her running down the platform with my sister when we left the station."

"My sister is NOT a Veela." Herwald countered, with a hint of frost, though he relented, as the boy simply didn't know any better "She simply suffers from a rare condition that makes her appear younger than she is," he told him, which technically wasn't a lie "she's actually Eighteen."

"Blimey…" Ron muttered, the redhead gaping like a landed trout at the revelation, clearly unable to accept that the snow angel he'd seen alongside his sister was, in fact, older than his elder brother Percy "Any other siblings?"

"A stepbrother, the redhead who was with her when we pulled out." Herwald revealed, supressing a pang at the memory of their parting "And yourself?"

"There's seven of us." Ron revealed, looking a little glum "my brothers, me and my little sister Ginny." he sighed "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts, so you could say I've got a lot to live up to." He continued at Herwald's intrigued look "Bill and Charlie have already left, Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect and while Fred and George mess around a lot they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first." He grimaced slightly "You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."

Herwald couldn't help but grimace as the redhead reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat gray rat, which continued to sleep despite the treatment.

"His name's Scabbers and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up." Ron explained "Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn't aff…" his ears turned pink and he coughed suddenly "I mean, I got Scabbers instead."

Herwald nodded, not really caring about the boy's financial status, it was none of his business either way, simply turning his attention back to his book, the rest of the trip proceeding in relative silence until about Half past twelve, where he was once again distracted, this time by a great clattering outside in the corridor, followed by a dimpled woman sliding back the compartment door and smiling in at them "Anything off the cart, dears?"

Herwald shook his head, having been given a packed lunch before he left, courtesy of Shirou, pulling it out even as Ron likewise turned the offer down, muttering something about sandwiches. "What's that you've got." The redhead asked, looking on interest as Herwald opened the beautifully prepared Bento box "Smells good."

"Care to try some?" the adoptive Einzbern asked, feeling unusually generous, holding out a rice ball for the boy to try "Here, it's an onigiri, a stuffed rice cake."

"They make cakes out of Rice?" Ron wondered, blinking at the idea, even as he accepted the rice ball, taking a bite out of it only to blink "Bloody hell is that JAM?"

"Sorry, that was a dessert one…" Herwald offered, looking at the others closely "I think there's a few chicken ones in here somewhere…"

"Naw, this is good." Ron assured him, wolfing down the pastry with gusto, getting rice all over his face, only to look up at a knock on the door of their compartment, a round-faced boy with a tearful expression poking his head inside.

"Sorry," he sniffled, looking hopeful "but have you seen a toad at all?" his hopeful expression faded when they shook their heads "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"

"Calm down." Herwald ordered, suppressing his ire at the boy's attitude, he didn't have the patience to deal with whiners and those who gave up so quickly, even as he pulled his wand out of his pocket "What did you say he was called?"

"T-Trevor." The tround-faced boy stammered, looking a little uncertain as he eyed the wand in the Einzbern's hand "He was my gift for getting int Hogwarts."

"Stand clear would you?" Herwald muttered, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, preparing to activate his 'trigger'. All magi had a trigger, a mental image which served as a means of activating their magic circuits. Shirou envisioned the cocking of a hammer, whereas Rin envisioned a dagger stabbing her in the heart.

For Herwald, his trigger was one of the most ominous, at least to himself: a woman's scream, followed by a flash of emerald light.

"_Accio Trevor the Toad_!" he intoned, pumping prana into the wand as he spoke, giving it a little flick, a rather startled looking toad suddenly flying down the hall, landing in Herwald's outstretched palm with a wet plop.

"TREVOR!" the boy exclaimed, reaching forward to take his pet from Herwald, his features lined with relief "Oh thank you! I thought I'd lost him for sure this time!"

"I suggest keeping him in a damp, moist container then." Herwald suggested flatly, wiping his hands clear of the damp, clammy feel of frog-skin "Toads do not, as a whole, enjoy being too warm. It dries them out."

"Thank you again." The boy stammered, bowing his head gratefully as he left, almost banging is head of the door frame as he left.

Herwald, shaking his head at the sight, promptly tucked his wand back into his pocket, ignoring the look of shock Ron was sending his way in favour of reading his book. "Something the matter, Herr Weasley?"

"Where'd you learn to summon like that?" Ron asked, unable to keep the awe out of his voice as he eyed the youth "Did your family teach you?"

"Nein, the Einzberns don't even like to acknowledge I exist if they can avoid it," he turned the page on his book idly "I simply read ahead in our textbooks before boarding the train."

* * *

And that, it would appear, was that, the two of them falling into relative silence, broken only by Ron's feeble attempts at starting up conversation, which Herwald would only half listen to, only really looking up when the sky started getting dark, the youth glancing out the window to see they were drawing closer to mountains and a forests under a deep purple sky.

The two promptly and quietly changed into their school robes, Herwald grimacing in disgust at the sheer ludicrousness of it all, even as a voice announced that they would be nearing the school within the next five minutes, and that their luggage would be attended to separately. By the time the train pulled into the station, Ron had turned so pale beneath his freckles he looked like he'd seen a ghost, only Herwald's grip on his arm forcing the redhead to push his way through the throng of students getting off the train.

* * *

_Hogsmeade Station..._

"Firs' years!" a booming voice called out, the Einzbern youth looking up in alarm at a familiar, massive man that was standing beneath a lantern "Firs' years over here!"

"That's Hagrid the Groundskeeper." Ron supplied, noticing Herwald's wary expression and deciding to help the other boy out "Good man, but Fred and George say he's not right in the head when it comes to magical creatures."

Herwald nodded, eyeing the giant of a man warily as he shepherded the first years towards a steep, narrow path, which opened up onto a great black lake, the first years letting out an appreciative 'Oooh!' at their first sight of Hogwarts, the caste sitting perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry and Ron were followed into their boat by Neville and Hermione.

"Everyone in?" Hagrid ordered, the giant claiming a boat to himself, looking round to make sure everyone was accounted for before tapping his own with his umbrella "Right then, FORWARD!"

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood, ducking their heads to get past a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face that seemed to take them right beneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbour, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

'Such a pointless act of dramatization.' Herwald muttered, shaking his head in disgust, once again repulsed by the ways British Wizards flaunted their gifts 'What's next, carriages drawn by invisible horses?'

Whatever was next, he was soon to face it, for after making sure everyone was here, returning Trevor to his distraught owner once again, Hagrid marched up to the front door of the castle, raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times. Herwald idly wondering if the doors were reinforced, as the sound of the blows reminded him of cannon fire, even as they swung open to reveal a stern faced Scottish witch in emerald-green robes.

* * *

And so the trip ends.

As you can see, the Sons of Kiritsugu are making quite the mark on the wizarding world. Fred and George have two new potential friends for life.

And yes, Oktoberfest does exist, as Medic can attest.

Medic: (Beerstein in hand) OKTOBERFEST! HAHAHA!

Demoman: KA-BEEWM! (Chugs bottle of finest scotch whiskey)

Kyugan: Bastards...For those wondering why Draco, Crabbe and Goyle didn't show up in this chapter, it's because nobody knew 'Harry Potter' was on the train, so they saw no reason to stalk the corridors. As for Hermione's lack of an appearance, she only came to the compartment after Neville recruited her to help look for Trevor. With Trevor found, no reason for Hermione to get involved.

As you can plainly see, Herwald isn't one for drama. He's an alchemist, they prefer precision and practicality over the traditional fanfare associated with Magic. To put it bluntly, just as Shirou's element is 'Swords', Herwald's is 'Alchemy', more accurately, the practicality that the craft requires.

Again, any suggestions for Herwald's Harem should be made in a review, or PM me if you prefer. Again, I must insist you give GOOD reasons for including them, don't just go 'Lololol Harryx(insert generic female name here) FTW.

I'm defiately considering the Taiga/Sirius pairing, but only if it gains enough popularity, otherwise she's sticking with Shirou. Hell I might even make Sirius survive for the hell of it, though it might upset the plot.

Again, if you have a particular pairing you'd like me to consider, (Not necessarily Harryxwhoever) let me know, but don't expect any action for a while. Herwald's ELEVEN people. He's not a bag of raging hormones yet, even if Magi develop earlier than mundanes.

I believe I've already voiced my opinion on the Harry/Illyasviel pairing. I will not be Lynched on this people!

Till next time, let the Wheel of Fate Turn...


	6. Chapter 5: The Sorting Hat

Chapter Five, and that's the last one for a while, sorry.

Piro: MMMHMHMHMHM!

Soldier: You kiss yer mother with that mouth torchie?

Kyugan: Look guys, I need sleep, that last Ubercharge helped but DAMN if nothing beats a good four hours.

Medic: Eight, you need EIGHT hours sleep Herr Kyugan.

Kyugan: I'm a college student, we survive on less, that said, the Wheel of Fate is Turning, let's see what this Shift in the Continuum had wrought...

* * *

The Sorting Hat

The stern faced witch, it turned out, had been none other than Minerva McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, who took the waterlogged first years into the castle, dismissing Hagrid the half-giant, Herwald would SWEAR by this, as Grandfather Jubstacheit was on good terms with the Headmistress of Beauxbatons, who was ALSO a Half-Giant, leading them into an entrance hall that was ALMOST as big as the one in the Einzbern Ancestral Castle. Almost being the key word, as Einzberns didn't settle for second place.

As they followed McGonagall across the flagged stone floor, Herwald's sharp ears picked up the muted droning of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right. Clearly, the rest of the school had arrived before them, proof once more that the trip across the lake was an overblown initiation for the First Years, only to snap out of his irritated musings as the Scottish witch guided them into a small, empty chamber off the hall, Herwald endeavouring to find a corner where he wouldn't be forced to rub shoulders with anyone, peering up at McGonagall warily as she faced them.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," the woman greeted "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room."

Herwald drowned out the rest of her speech, as he had already read up on the four houses, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin during his stay at the Emiya estate. He'd even gone so far as to actually memorize the overly long list of rules, Jubstacheit having warned him that, due to their family's perceived 'darkness', he would need to stay one step ahead of the game.

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" a familiar voice asked, Herwald looking up to see the round-faced boy with a penchant for misplacing his toad chatting with Ron, who was looking decidedly nervous as time wore on.

"Some sort of test, I think." the youngest Weasley Brother admitted, still rather pale beneath his freckles, swallowing slightly as he said it "Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."

Herwald snorted, rolling his eyes at the twins' act of sibling mischief. As if any half-way decent magical institution would allow harm to come to underage students? Hogwarts was considered one of the safest places in the British Isles, if not Europe, even Grandfather Jubstacheit admitted the wards the founders had placed were second to none among mortal Magi.

The sound of several people screaming dashed that current line of thought, the young lord moving into a combat stance, left hand pressed against the wall, ready to transmute a weapon, right hand clenched and ready to disintegrate anything that came to close, only to blin as he espied the source of the screaming: Ghosts.

"Forgive and forget, I say," the spirit of what appeared to be a fat little monk intoned, his hands clasped together as if in prayer "we ought to give him a second chance…"

"My dear Friar," a ghost wearing a ruff and tights countered "have we not given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost…" he blinked as he caught sight of the terrified first years "I say, what are you all doing here?"

"New students!" the Fat Friar exclaimed, his plaintive expression replaced with honest joy as he smiled at the assembled "About to be Sorted, I suppose? Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old house, you know."

'A priest that attended a magical academy?' Herwald wondered, intrigued at the notion, as while the Vatican and the Mages Association were on civil terms, this hadn't always been the case, and it was a rarity that someone from one would practice the art of the other.

"Move along now." Professor McGonagall called out sharply, having returned at some point during the Friar's speech "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start. Now, form a line and follow me."

The First years fell in line uncertainly, as if this castle had GHOSTS, what else could be waiting for them? Herwald blended in with the crowd, keeping his head low whilst at the same time eyeing the walls warily, McGonagall leading them back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall, which was lit, to Herwald's disgust, by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, a blatant waste of magic that served no relevant purpose other than to give the place an air of mystery.

"Its bewitched to look like the sky outside." He heard the bossy girl from the train whisper, following her gaze to stare at the ceiling, which resembled a starry sky "I read about it in _Hogwarts, A History_."

Herwald snorted, though truth be told this was ONE use of magic he didn't consider overly frivolous, as it was certainly more creative than simply painting a mural across the ceiling. The funders had certainly done good work, it was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open on to the heavens.

'I just hope it doesn't start RAINING.' He muttered, grimacing as he watched clouds move past the stars 'Hate to see if it emulates everything…'

Movement out the corner of his eye drew his attention to Professor McGonagall, who summoned a stool, upon which she silently placed a pointed wizard's hat that had seen better days, as it was patched, frayed and extremely dirty. 'Sella would NOT approve.' He snorted, recalling Leysritt's older, sterner sister and her uptight, no-nonsense personality. The Homunculus would have thrown a fit at the sight of something so moth-bitten being in the house, possibly even use Leysritt's battle-axe to get rid of it 'Though it begs the question:…' he muttered, eyeing the rest of the crowd warily, as everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, 'What the hell is so important about it?'

As if to answer him, the hat twitched, Herwald's eyes widening as a rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat began to sing.

* * *

Heavy: If you vere expecting copy of hat song here, you are silly little baby men...

* * *

_After the Song..._

'Well now…' Herwald noted, honestly thrown by what he'd just seen, even as the whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished, Ron Weasley swearing to his neighbour that he was going to murder his brother for something to do with a Troll 'A sentient hat, I have to admit that's a first.' He narrowed his eyes at the animated headwear 'And also an inconvenience.'

While he had to agree that trying on a hat was much preferable to fighting a Troll or whatever other nonsense trials the others had come up with, in the end result, it would amount to the same thing, someone other than Herwald knowing what he was capable of.

In the end, as much as they preached using their skills to benefit man, all Magi were truly out for Number One, and that meant hoarding their knowledge jealously against all invaders.

"When I call your name," Professor McGonagall called out, the stern scot's witch stepping to the fore, a long roll of parchment held in her hands "you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted." So saying, she glanced down at the scroll in hand and read "Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, clambering nervously onto the stool and placing the hat on her head which was so large the brim fell right down over her eyes. After a moment's pause, the seam opened up again, the hat barking out "HUFFLEPUFF!" Hannah clambering off the seat to sit at the table on the right, which was cheering and clapping for her ecstatically, the Fat Friar from before waving merrily at her.

"Bones, Susan!" McGonagall called out seconds later, the girl in question marching towards the hat a little more confidently than Hannah, though like her soon-to-be house mate, she too was sorted into "HUFFLEPUFF!" courtesy of the Sorting Hat.

'I wonder what qualities other than Courage, Loyalty, Sharpness of Wit and Cunning it looks for?' Herwald wondered, even as "Boot, Terry!" was sorted into "RAVENCLAW!", heralding a series of cheers from the table second from the left clapped this time, several of the boy's seniors standing to shake him by the hand 'Will it take offence to my having killed?'

"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers. Herwald was amused to note Fred and George, inseparable as always, catcalling as the girl took her seat, which turned to silent 'boos' as "Bulstrode, Millicent" was the first to become a Slytherin, the table on the far right greeting her with quite nods and the occasional reserved clap.

Had he been brought up as a certain twinkle-eyed-Schweinhund had intended, perhaps Herwald might have deemed the Slytherin's an unpleasant lot. Had he brought up in a typical Wizarding society, he might have felt wary of them. Having been brought up as an Einzbern, he simply saw them as another group of potential allies/enemies in the making, the same as any of the other four houses.

'Everyone of them could one day prove to be a rival in the search for Akasha.' He noted, running his eyes over the crowd even as "Finch-Fletchley, Justin!" was sorted into "HUFFLEPUFF!" to eager applause 'I'll need to keep on my toes here.'

As he let his mind wander, Herwald noticed that, while infrequent, it sometimes took the hat a little longer to determine which house to place a student in. A fine example was "Finnigan, Seamus," a sandy-haired boy that had been standing to Herwald's left in the line, The boy had been sitting on the sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat finally declared him a Gryffindor.

"Granger, Hermione!" McGonagall declared, Herwald's brow quirking as the bushy haired, bossy girl from the train literally ran to the stool, earning a mutter of annoyance and a few utterances of 'mud blood' from the Slytherin's that Herwald only caught because of his enhanced hearing, which caused him to frown.

Like all Magi, he was aware of the prejudice that was held against those who entered into the Magical World without a background. Typically speaking, Shirou could be considered a 'Muggle Born' Wizard, for had the grail war not destroyed his home, he would likely have never met Kiritsugu, nor become aware of magic.

Yet despite that, he'd gone on, practicing what little spells he knew, until he actually stumbled across that what only a handful of mages to perform: A Reality Marble, and one potent enough to stand firm against the King of Heroes, Gilgamesh himself.

'It just goes to show you that bloodlines don't make the wizard.' Herwald noted, snorting in wry bemusement as the hat FINALLY sorted the girl into "GRYFFINDOR!", earning a groan from Ron 'Hell, look at the Makiri family, there's an example of why keeping the blood 'pure' doesn't work outside of bad romance novels.'

As he was considering this, idly wondering just where the Makiri heir would've landed if he'd enrolled here, the round-faced boy with the misplaced toad syndrome, whom it appeared was called Neville Longbottom, FINALLY managed to make it to the stool, after apparently tripping over his own two feet, in actuality, a low-key prank courtesy of a Slytherin senior.

'Certainly not Gryffindor…' he muttered, recalling how cowardly the Makiri heir had been, even as the hat seemed to take it's sweet time with Neville 'Not Ravenclaw either, even if the idiot had a brain he'd only be a danger to himself….' He held his chin in thought 'He certainly wasn't very loyal either, considering how much he was berating Rider…' he muttered in irritation 'And Slytherin's right out as well…little prick was about as cunning as bog moss.'

Sighing in exasperation, even as the sorting hat FINALLY declared Neville a "GRYFFINDOR," the relieved boy racing off, still wearing the blasted hat, forcing him to jog back up to the stool amid gales of laughter so that "MacDougal, Morag." could be sorted.

When "Malfoy, Draco." Was called out, Herwald wasn't really surprised to see the overconfident boy from Madame Malkin's swagger forward, looking as if he owned the damn bloody castle and everyone in it. He was QUITE surprised, however, when the Sorting hat, without so much as touching the boy's bleached pale locks, practically screamed "SLYTHERIN!" for all to hear, allowing Malfoy, who looked smug as anything, to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself.

'Huh, I could've sworn it said Slytherin was the home of the cunning.' Herwald muttered, eyeing the little ponce even as the sorting continued 'I suppose he's sharper than he looks,' He sweatdropped at the sight of Crabbe and Goyle, who were the closest things he'd seen to resembling trolls whilst still being human 'Though considering THOSE two got in…good grief it's like the damn thing's typecasting Slytherin as the place for villains.'

"Potter, Harry!" McGonagall called out, her annoyed tone snapping Herwald out of his thoughts, looking round to see her eyeing the remaining first years in annoyance "Sometime TONIGHT, Mr Potter!"

Herwald frowned. Being an Einzbern, he was not used to being talked to in such a manner, not even by the most condescending members of the family, most of which had been 'sacrificed' to make his Circuit Arrays at some point. Nonetheless, mindful of the hushed whispers that had erupted at the mention of his name, and the look of shock from the Weasley twins when they saw him, he moved calmly towards the stool, pausing in front of it to look an impatient McGonagall in the eyes.

"My apologies," he offered, keeping his tone flat and professional "I haven't gone by that name since I was adopted at One, so I wasn't really listening out for it." He held the startled woman's gaze "I would prefer that my name be corrected on the register in order to avoid similar incidents occurring in future."

"Just put that hat on, Mr Potter." McGonagall urged, sounding tired and annoyed, though oddly tolerant as she gestured towards the hat, which was sitting relatively lifelessly on the stool.

* * *

_Herwald's POV..._

Scowling slightly at her persisted use of the unfamiliar name, Herwald grudgingly approached the stool, taking his seat, allowing the scots witch to drop the moth-eaten thing on his head, glaring out at the hall full of people that were craning to get a good look at him, like some animal on display. _"What's this?"_ a voice in his ear whispered, laced with intrigue and minor disapproval _"A barrier strong enough to keep ME out? Suspicious one aren't you?"_

'Cautious is more like it.' Herwald muttered, glancing down to the Ring of Kay that adorned his finger, having quite forgotten he was wearing it. Apparently its barriers against Legilimency were still in perfect working order.

_"Not much for conversation either, are you?"_ the small voice noted, chuckling wryly as if amused by his resistance to its probing _"Nevertheless, I must insist you let me in so I can judge you young man, I can keep you here all night if I have to."_

'If that's the best threat he (She? It?) has then it's got NOTHING on Grandfather.' Herwald snorted, crossing his arms before him, his lips drawn into a thin line, even as he subtly loosened the Kay ring so it wasn't so tight on his finger, though not enough that it was removed completely.

_"Ah, marginally better…"_ the voice whispered sardonically, clearly amused by his defiant compromise to the command _"Still a few memories blocked off, but let's have a look…Oh my, so you've had experience with the Third True Magic?"_

"If you mean the Heaven's Feel, my Adopted Family is the closest associated with it." Herwald whispered back cautiously, keeping his lips from moving "I myself have never encountered it in person."

_"Fascinating, and a budding alchemist at that…" _the hat noted _"Grown up amongst a reputable Magus family, participated in a magical free-for-all, faced down EPIC HEROES one on one even…" _it chuckled wryly in his ear _"You're nothing at all like what Albus was expecting."_

Herwald's eyes narrowed, half considering snapping his ring back into place at the mention of the man that, if rumour was to be believed, had dumped him on a doorstep in November. Amongst his many successes, Dumbledore was a famed Legilimens, and Herwald didn't doubt he was even now trying to garner some inside into the boy he'd abandoned to his fate.

_"Nothing at all like what Albus was expecting indeed…"_ the hat muttered lowly, its tone contemplative _"You're a difficult Mr Potter, make no mistake."_

"Von Einzbern, if you would." Herwald countered, his tone decidedly cold as he glared at the inside of the hat, as if hoping to set it on fire through sheer will despite knowing such an act defied the laws of equivalent exchange "Herwald if we ever become friends, but otherwise refer to me as Von Einzbern."

_"Touchy aren't we?"_ the hat noted, and Herwald had the feeling that if it had eyebrows, one would be quirking in the air by now._ "And very difficult to place I'm not afraid to admit. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh goodness do you have talent, and a nice thirst to prove yourself, and the resolve to let NOTHING get in your way."_

"Could you hurry this up." Herwald muttered in annoyance, refastening the ring onto his finger covertly, figuring the hat had seen more than enough "Unlike YOU, I don't have the luxury of sitting around collecting dust."

_"Touchy, touchy…"_ the hat chastised, tone teasing _"You're certainly no Hufflepuff, Loyal as you are to those you trust, there's a wall between you and other people. Ravenclaw would be good, though I shudder to think what you could get up given access to their library…"_

'Ravenclaws possess their own library?' Herwald wondered, quirking a brow in thought as he eyed the table across the way 'Might reconsider going there.'

_"Courage by the bucketful too,"_ the Hat noted approvingly, it's tone soft as it chuckled "_you'd need it to do HALF the things you did during the Grail war…though it's tempered by a sense of ambition that's at the root of all your qualities."_

'My ambition to help Illyasviel.' Herwald deduced, feeling a slight pang of concern at the memory of his sister, chasing after the train as she waved goodbye 'I'd do anything for her.'

_"Albus was determined that you go to Gryffindor…"_ the hat muttered uncertainly, causing Herwald to tense _"Seems he has some grand plan for you, even if he won't admit it even to himself…what do you think?"_

"I could care LESS about other people's agendas." Herwald hissed angrily, vowing to never be caught in the Headmaster's presence if he could help it "They can get in line with mine or get the hell out of my way."

_"Well spoken…"_ the hat chuckled, it's town laced with amused approval _"Very becoming of a SLYTHERIN!"_

* * *

_Great Hall..._

Herwald jolted, the hat having yelled the last word in his ear, yanking it off, wondering if the bedamned thing had driven him deaf, only to realize that it was the entire hall that had fallen silent. The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were eyeing him with looks that bordered between Shock and Horror, while the Gryffindors seemed more along the lines of betrayal, the bushy haired girl's hands clasped over her mouth in shock, while Neville had turned pale as a sheet.

Then a subtle applause sounded up, the teen turning to see several Slytherin seniors clapping their hands, the pace picking up as the serpents welcomed him amongst their ranks, though there were a few that eyed him with suspicion.

Getting up from the stool, handing the hat back to a silent McGonagall, who looked as if she'd been struck in the face, the young Lord Potter walked down the steps to the Slytherin table, taking his seat near the end. He could see the High Table properly now, and was rather annoyed to see that even the teachers, who were supposed to remain impartial, looked floored by the declaration.

The worst off was Dumbledore, the normally venerable headmaster gaping as if he'd been rendered deaf and mute, Herwald only barely recalling to avoid the old man's eyes, which were bereft of their traditional twinkle.

At the end farthest from him sat Hagrid, the massive groundskeeper looking as if his dog had died, and was blowing his nose in a handkerchief the size of a tablecloth. Another professor, decked out in a ludicrous purple turban, was eyeing him with a look of intrigue, and a tall, greasy haired fellow with an unfortunately hooked nose was GLARING at him, as if insulted to his very core by the boy's presence.

Rather than be intimidated, Herwald returned the glare, the man's eyes widening fractionally, only to narrow, the hall around them seeming to fall silent, the other occupants fading into the background, leaving only the two combatants.

A candle flickered in Herwald's field of vision, forcing him to blink. When he opened his eyes again the hooked nosed man was looking the other way, a bored expression on his face as the sorting resumed at last, though McGonagall's voice cracked at least three times before she was able to announce Dean Thomas' name, the dark skinned boy taking pity on the distraught witch and taking his seat, allowing her to gather her wits about her as the hat sorted him into Gryffindor, the woman's voice decidedly firmer as she called Lisa Turpin forward, the girl heading off to join the Ravenclaw table shortly after, followed by Ron Weasley.

Herwald blinked as his eyes met the redhead boy's, actually surprised by the sheer animosity there. It was certainly a stark difference compared to the nervous, uncertain youth that had endeavoured to strike up a conversation with him on the train, now the boy looked like he wanted nothing more to wipe Herwald off the face of the earth.

'Verdammt Inter-House bigotry…' he muttered, shaking his head in disgust as the sorting hat was dropped on the boy's head, startling him, as he'd been so focussed on glaring he hadn't noticed McGonagall raising the hat over his head, actually letting out a yelp when she dropped it on him, finally cutting off the redhead's glare for the second it took for the hat to declare the boy a "GRYFFINDOR!", after which the Ron resumed his glaring even after he'd collapsed into his seat at the Lion's table.

After Blaise Zabini had been declared a Slytherin, Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll, her face decidedly wooden as she studiously avoided glancing in their table's direction, before tuning her back on them all and taking the sorting hat away, just as Dumbledore got to his feet, beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there. It would have been more believable if his eyes weren't lacking their trademark twinkle.

"Welcome," the silver haired wizard called out "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

He sat back down, amidst cheers and applause from the majority of the hall, though admittedly the Slytherin's were more reserved in their revelry, some of them eyeing the old man as if he had lost his final marble, Herwald included.

"Mad, isn't he." A familiar voice noted, Herwald turning to see Draco Malfoy smirking mockingly from his seat down the table "Father always said he was mad."

"Sane enough to be able to juggle the responsibilities of the Supreme Mugwump AND his position as Headmaster." Herwald reminded the boy, earning a look that was equal parts intrigued and annoyed "Sometimes the best excuse is plausible deniability, he could easily be ACTING senile to get us to let our guard down."

A little on the conspiracy side for his tastes, but it got the message across, as Malfoy, and several other Slytherin first years and seniors, flinched, eyeing the Headmaster warily, even as the plates before them filled with food, which if Herwald recalled correctly, was the magic of several hundred house elves which were bound to the castle.

"Greetings, all." A cold voice greeted, Herwald looking up to see ghost with a gaunt face set with blank staring eyes hovering over them, hands clasped behind his transparent back. Like all ghosts, he existed as a simulacrum of his former self at the moment of death, and so was dressed in robes that were stained with silvery blood, though whether it was his own was anyone's guess. "Allow me to welcome you to Slytherin house, home of the cunning and ambitious. I hope you young serpents can uphold the reputation of your peers, Slytherin house has won the House Cup six years in a row, and I would prefer to keep it that way…"

Herwald shivered, though it was more to do with the ghost's proximity than his attempt at intimidation. No-one exposed to Jubstacheit's brand of intimidation for most of their life could be affected by much of anything anymore. Fortunately, the ghost floated off to sit next to Draco Malfoy, who looked decidedly uncomfortable by his proximity.

* * *

_As the evening wore on..._

Herwald pointedly ignored the looks being sent his way from virtually everyone in the room, particularly the Headmaster, pretending to pay attention to his fellow Slytherins, or focusing on his food, which while delicious, was not up to Shirou's level of culinary perfection. When he did deign to peek at the table, it was to see Hagrid drinking deeply from his goblet with the drive of a man that wished to say farewell to sobriety, Professor McGonagall involved in distraught conversation with Dumbledore, who was doing his best to comfort her, while the Greasy haired Professor conversed with the one in the ridiculous purple turban.

He lowered his gaze again as Dumbledore noticed him eyeballing him, trusting in Kay's Ring to keep his mind safe from unwanted guests even as the desserts vanished from the table, the hall falling silent as the aged Headmaster got to his feet.

"Just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered." He assured them "I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils." His eyes twinkled in the direction of the Weasley twins "And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." he turned back to them all "I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors."

'Well you're certainly going at it from the wrong angle.' Herwald muttered, the adopted Einzbern knowing first hand that telling children not to do something simply encouraged them to find more creative ways of disobeying without being caught.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term." Dumbledore continued, heedless of the boy's scorn "Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch." His smile remained, but the twinkle was gone from his eyes once again "And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

* * *

And we'll leave off there for now.

Heavy: (Walks in, finishing of Sandwich) Omnomnom... (Burp) That vas delicious!

Kyugan: Indeed it was. For those wondering the tremendous reaction to Herwald's sorting, remember how overjoyed they were for him to go to Gryffindor? Even the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs applauded the 'Golden Boy'. For him to go to Slytherin, they're probably afraid he'd set to become the next dark lord.

Heavy: Hah! Nothing but Babies! WAAAAAH! UWAAAAAH!

Kyugan: Quite. Also, the reason for Ron's enmity can be seen as mistrust. He grew up expecting Harry Potter to be a hero. For him to go to the 'snakes' probably constitues an act of betrayal for the boy. Relax, they'll make up later.

Yaoifangirls: Oooh!

Kyugan: Not like that.

Yaoifangirls: Awww...

Again, any suggestions for Herwald's Harem should be made in a review, or PM me if you prefer. Again, I must insist you give GOOD reasons for including them, don't just go 'Lololol Harryx(insert generic female name here) FTW.

I'm definately considering the Taiga/Sirius pairing, but only if it gains enough popularity, otherwise she's sticking with Shirou. Hell I might even make Sirius survive for the hell of it, though it might upset the plot.

Again, if you have a particular pairing you'd like me to consider, (Not necessarily Harryxwhoever) let me know, but don't expect any action for a while. Herwald's ELEVEN people. He's not a bag of raging hormones yet, even if Magi develop earlier than mundanes.

You know my stance on Harry(Herwald)/Illyasviel. Get over it people.

And now, I turn you over to our resident German Language Specialist: Medic!

Medic: ahem...

Verdammt: Dammit.

Schweinhund: Pig-dog. An insult.

Was Zur Holle: What the hell?

Shiese: Excrement, leavings, Twighlight, you get the idea.

Till next time, let the Wheel of Fate Turn...


	7. Chapter 6: Great Expectations

Chapter Six, whew, I'm on a roll.

Heavy: Author is credit to team!

Kyugan: Aw, thanks big guy. And thanks to all you that sent in reviews and suggestions for the harem. I'll post the more popular suggestions in a bit.

Scout: I Don't see how that lil' pipsqueak get's a harem while I get stuck with these losers.

Heavy: Little man shut up or I stuff him in little can again.

Scout: I'll be good.

Kyugan: No team killing Heavy, that said, the Wheel of Fate is Turning, let's see what this Shift in the Continuum had wrought...

* * *

Great Expectations.

Herwald quirked a brow, even as some of the people in the crowd chuckled at what they clearly presumed to be a joke. In truth, he himself would probably have regarded it as such, were it not for his upbringing, prior experience, and the fact the old man had looked right at him as he said it.

'A threat?' he wondered, eyeing the old man warily, avoiding his eyes whilst trying to read his features as he'd been taught 'Or some form of subtle manipulation? Is there really something on the Third Floor dangerous enough to pose a threat to student safety? If so, then why the hell is it there in the first place?'

He risked looking up into the old man's eyes, unable to interpret much else due to the sheer immensity of the man's beard and moustaches, only to see the blue orbs narrowed in confusion, his lips pursing as he realized the old man had attempted entry into his mind, only to be rebuffed by the Ring of Kay's wards against Legilimency.

As if realizing the gig was up, Dumbledore once again turned his attention bac to the rest of the hall, his eyes regaining their trademark twinkle as he raised his hands in the air, his wand suddenly clutched in his right hand. "And now," he cried "before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!"

Herwald blinked, noticing that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed behind Dumbledore's back, the hook-nosed one in particular looking decidedly sour as the Headmaster gave his wand a little flick, summoning a long golden ribbon which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

"Everyone pick their favourite tune," Dumbledore encouraged, his hands raised as if he were a conductor about to lead an orchestra, the other Teachers grins taking on a decidedly cadaver like quality in their discomfort "and off we go!"

* * *

Heavy: SAAAAANDViCH! SAAA-A-AAANDVIIICH!

* * *

Herwald, of course, pretended to sing along, as he wasn't much of a singer to begin with, not that it mattered, as everyone in the hall was singing a different version of the same bloody song, depending on their tastes, winding down at different times, until only the Weasley twins were left, singing along to a very slow funeral march. "Ah, music," Dumbledore sighed, once the applause had died down, wiping his twinkling eyes delicately "A magic beyond all we do here!" he clapped his hands together "And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The Slytherin's left last, following a tall Seventh year prefect who guided them through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and down a stone staircase that presumably led to the castle's basements, a fact that was confirmed after they entered what appeared to be a cellar, packed with bottles, barrels, crates and various shelved loaded with whatever it was the staff deigned to keep down here in the cool.

"Imperious Rex." The Prefect barked, loud enough to be heard by those behind him, Herwald's brow coking as the the brickwork of the wall before the man receded, revealing a passage that led to a low-ceilinged, dungeon-like room with greenish lamps and chairs, filled with numerous low backed black and dark green leather sofas, which on closer examinations seemed to use skulls for buttons. There were skulls scattered about in other places, holding up torches, carved into the dark wood cupboards, even dotted along the walls, giving the place a grand atmosphere, whilst retaining the cold, intimidating aura one would expect to find in a dungeon.

"Alright," the prefect muttered, rounding on them with an indifferent look in her eyes "All of you seniors should know where you're going." She turned to a tall, relatively muscular senior with shifty grey eyes and coarse black hair. "Flint, you take the boys to their dorm, I'll see to the girls."

"C'mon then." Flint ordered, displaying his large teeth in a shifty leer "Let's get you little serpents tucked in for the night."

Herwald snorted but followed suit, as it HAD been a long, trying day and he was eager to rest up for the next, where the REAL trials would start, following the Senior to a room that had been designated for the first years, a spacious room filled with four-posters hung with velvet curtains of deep forest green, Herwald walking immediately towards the one with his Trunk in front of it, the luggage having apparently been brought up to the castle some time during the feast.

"So." A voice noted, Herwald turning to see Draco Malfoy standing behind him, flanked on either side by Crabbe and Goyle, a calculative expression on his face "You're Harry Potter are you?"

"Apparently." Herwald noted, frowning slightly at the name, and at the feeling he was getting from the pale haired boy, like he was a specimen under examination "Though I haven't gone by that name since I was adopted, I go by Herwald now."

"Herwald?" Draco wondered, his brow furrowing in thought "That's German isn't it? Were you raised in Germany?"

"My adopted father was Japanese, but he married into a family of German magi." Herwald explained, earning a look of mild distaste from the other boy "He and my Step-mother passed away shortly afterwards, so the family head adopted me into the family."

"But they ARE a Wizarding family?" Draco pressed, the boys eyes taking in Herwald's appearance with what seemed gauging approval "A noble house?"

"To my knowledge, they have a lineage that can be traced back for centuries." Herwald replied flatly, recalling his numerous history lessons "They specialize in Alchemy and Ale making, mostly."

"I see." Malfoy noted, his eyes lighting up with interest, though whether it was the alchemy, which was an obscure , difficult branch of magic, or the Ale, as the Malfoys were as reputed for their wines as the Einzberns were for their ale, was debatable "Forgive me, I've been rude." He held a hand to his chest "Draco Malfoy, heir of House Malfoy." He gestured to his more muscular accompaniments "These are Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, heirs of their respective houses."

"Herwald von Eizbern." Herwald greeted, unable to help the small sense of satisfaction at the look of shock that spread on their faces "Ward of the Einzbern family, and apparently Heir to the Noble House of Potter." He bowed in greeting "A pleasure to be rooming with you."

"Y-yes…" Malfoy stammered, the pale boy regaining his composure with admirable timing, schooling his face back into a semblance of his confident expression, though his eyes were wary "I must admit it's a rarity to find an Einzbern at Hogwarts, traditionally they've enrolled at Durmstrang."

"My Biological parents registered me for Hogwarts at Birth, apparently." Herwald reasoned, shrugging offhandedly at the mention of the Potters "Grandfather Jubstacheit deemed it prudent to respect their wishes."

"I see." Malfoy noted, flinching again at the mention of the Einzbern head, who was said to be the only man in the world Albus Dumbledore would hesitate to challenge "Well then, let me be the first to welcome you to Slytherin house, Lord Einzbern."

"Herwald will do." Herwald assured the other boy "I am not the heir, nor am I an Einzbern by blood, and while I AM heir apparent to the House of Potter, I have no emotional attachment to the name."

"Herwald it is then." Malfoy agreed, smiling slightly, as if he'd accomplished some great victory here, a he extended his hand to the other boy "And you may call me Draco."

"A pleasure, Draco." Herwald offered, having grown accustomed to these little power plays by watching the interactions between the Einzbern family members for years "Now if you'll permit, Gentlemen, it has been a long day, and I don't foresee tomorrow being any shorter. Vincent, Gregory, I bid you good night."

The two thugs jolted, clearly not used to being addressed whenever Malfoy was present, muttering off a few grunted replies before they turned, each youth turning to their respective beds, stripping down to their nightclothes, before clambering into bed for the night, though Herald took a moment to draft a letter for his family, vowing to mail it first thing in the morning, before turning in himself.

* * *

_The Following Morning..._

Upon rousing early, Herwald had gotten dressed in his jogging clothes and gone for a run on the grounds of the castle, a fitness regime that had been driven into him during his training for the war so often he now performed it out of habit.

Compared to the biting cold of the Einzbern castle grounds however, the grounds of Hogwarts were merely pleasantly brisk, Herwald returning with a healthy flush, exiting the showers just as the other serpents were rousing from their beds, Draco offering to join Crabbe, Goyle and himself for breakfast, which Herwald agreed to, provided they didn't mind making a brief stop by the Owlery first so he could post his letter.

Whispers followed Herwald from the moment he left his dormitory the next day. People lining up outside classrooms stood on tiptoe to get a look at him, or doubled back to pass him in the corridors again, staring.

Despite Draco's assurances that such things were natural considering his fame, it was all rather annoying, and Herwald had to resist the urge to lash out with his Alchemical arrays, as he did NOT appreciate being looked at like some sort of lab specimen, he'd had quite enough of THAT from when he was Six years old to last him a lifetime.

Draco proved to be VERY insightful as to the interior of Hogwarts, his father, Lucius, apparently being on the board of Governors, and had instructed him as to its layout so as to make his school years less of a hazard. A wise precaution, as there were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump.

Then there were the doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, because it all seemed to move around a lot, the people in the portraits were particularly notorious for visiting each other, an annoyance that had led to many a Gryffindor being stranded outside their common room, as the portrait which guarded the entrance had a peculiar habit of wandering off when they least expected it.

Another hazard, though nuisance was perhaps a better term, were the ghosts, who didn't seem to realize that suddenly gliding through a door, wall or person was highly upsetting to the unprepared mind. However, they were generally courteous, usually pointing the students of their affiliated houses the right way if they found them wandering lost in the bedamned corridors. The TRUE nuisance was Peeves the Poltergeist, an annoying little man with a bow tie that revelled in the chance to cause all sorts of mischief, with only the Bloody Baron capable of keeping him in line.

"And then there's Argus Filch, the caretaker." Draco stated, the Slytherin buttering his toast as he spoke, not looking a Herwald "He's a bitter old squib, that's a wizard born without the ability to do magic, who prowls the corridors looking for any excuse to give students detention." He sniffed in disdain "He's got a cat called Mrs. Norris, scrawny, ugly little thing, she's basically his familiar, about the only magical thing about him really, so watch out for her in the corridors if you're out at night."

Herwald nodded to show he'd been listening, though while his eyes were focused on his breakfast before him, his mind was whirling with the literal circus that composed Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

'Ghosts? Moving staircases? Bitter old men that took their failures out on innocent students?' he shook his head in disbelief 'Grandfather was right…Dumbledore's clearly one brat short of a wurst."

He became aware of a sudden silence, looking up to see the entirety of Slytherin house glaring at him, or rather, at something over his shoulder. Turning to follow their gaze, he found himself face to face with the bushy haired Gryffindor girl, who was eyeing him with an expression that hung between uncertainty and anticipation "Can I help you, Fräulein?"

"Are you really Harry Potter?" the girl asked, looking the adopted Einzbern over carefully, her brown eyes glancing particularly towards his forehead, no doubt searching for the tell-tale scar behind his black bangs.

"Do you usually ask someone their name in such a manner?" Herwald demanded, a little on the cold side, as he'd grown annoyed with all the damned attention his other name had apparently earned him, only to sigh as she flinched "My apologies, I've had so many people bothering me today and it's not even first period. Yes, I am Harry Potter, though I haven't gone by that name since I was adopted, I go by Herwald now." He smiled courteously "And you?"

"Oh," the girl stammered, clearly torn between shock at his earlier coldness and his currently genteel manner, though she recovered with admirable swiftness, the light of intrigue returning to her eyes, though Herwald noted it seemed to be pure interest, rather than the oppressive staring he'd experienced thus far "Sorry, forgot my manners for a second, I'm Hermione Granger."

"Well met, Frau Granger." Herwald returned, inclining his head slightly, aware that they were drawing quite the crowd "Might I ask what has troubled you to leave the safety of your pride?" he inclined his head towards the Gryffindor table, which were watching the conversation like hawks "Lions and Snakes, after all, rarely associate."

"Well, I have to admit I was curious." Hermione reasoned, not even glancing at her table "I mean, I've read all about you, I got a few extra books for background reading before coming here, and you're in _Modern Magical History _and _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts _and _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_."

"Am I?" Herwald wondered, quirking a brow at the statement, turning to look at Draco for confirmation, the Malfoy heir nodding his head slightly, though his eyes never left Granger "I must say this is the first I've heard of it."

"Goodness, didn't you know?" the Gryffindor girl wondered, looking shocked "I'd have found out everything I could if it were me."

"How fortunate for Herwald that he is NOT you." Draco sneered, the Slytherin table breaking out into snickers at the girl's expense "Why don't you trot on back to your table mud blood."

"Draco!" Herwald snapped, surprising not only the boy in question, but Hermione, whose eyes had widened at the derogatory term "Do not say that word again, not only do I find it displeasing, it is beneath your status as heir to house Malfoy to insult a lady in such a vulgar manner."

Draco blinked, torn between shock that Herwald was defending the girl, and alarm that he may have inadvertently brought shame to his family name. The other Slytherins fell silent, their attention now locked on Herwald, rather than Hermione.

"Apologies, Frau Granger." The teen offered, his features solemn "However, I think it best if you returned to your table now." He nodded slightly "Also, for future reference, not everything listed in textbooks is entirely accurate. History is written by the victors, but I certainly have never been interviewed as to the true events of that night. For all I know it was my parents, or an unnamed third party, that killed Voldemort."

Hermione blinked, torn between outrage at the notion that the idea that books could be filled with false information, her shock at being insulted, and flustered at Herwald's polite, genteel manners. She promptly excused herself, returning to the Gryffindor table at a trot, her face red as she resumed her place at the table.

"You shouldn't have defended her, Potter." Blaise Zabini opined, the dark skinned boy frowning slightly as he eyed the Einzbern "She needs to learn her place."

"Within the halls of Hogwarts, all students are considered equal." Herwald countered, frowning slightly at the name as he recited one of the oldest laws of the school "Besides, if we insult her, it will only give the Gryffindors and those who side with them more reason to slander us. Better to sit back and avoid outright confrontation whilst building our power base from the ground up."

"A sound stratagem, Mr Potter." A cold voice noted, the students turning to see the hook-nosed professor standing behind them in all his greasy haired glory "Perhaps there is hope for making a Slytherin of you yet."

Herwald frowned, having not noticed the man sneak up on him, a notable feat considering the way his robes billowed around him as he moved, giving him the appearance of a large, bipedal bat. "Your timetables." The man intoned, handing out the sheets of parchment amongst the students with a decidedly bored air "See that you aren't late for class, those that bring shame on Slytherin house will answer to ME."

And with that he left, his robes billowing dramatically behind him as he returned to the head table, but not before sending Herwald a look that was unreadable, though deeply unsettling.

"That's Professor Snape." Draco supplied, his tone laced with a hint of admiration that he'd thus far only exhibited in regards to his father "He's Head of Slytherin house and the Potion's Master here, though he'd prefer to be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts."

'He certainly has the look down pat.' Herwald noted blithely, glancing up at the hook-nosed man warily, before turning his attention to his itinerary for the day.

* * *

_Later that week..._

The classes for the first week back proved, while interesting, were par for the course at least in regards to what Herwald had been brought up to expect.

Astronomy required them to study the night skies through their telescopes every Wednesday at midnight, whilst learning the names of different stars and the movements of the planets. Herwald, having already a firm grasp of the subject due to the importance of the planets' position on Alchemical reactions, often found himself helping his classmates out.

Herbology found them down in the greenhouses behind the castle three times a week, where a Professor Sprout, a pleasant, dumpy little witch instructed them in how to care for all the strange plants and fungi, highlighting their use and importance.

History of Magic was, quite frankly, a joke, though it had the noted distinction of being the only class to be taught by a ghost. Apparently the late Professor Binns had been very old when he'd fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire one evening, though that hadn't stopped him getting up the following morning to teach his class, leaving his body behind. Most of the students seemed to take this class as a 'self-study session', either catching up on homework or, more often than not, sleeping. Herwald chose the former, though he also took the time to catch up on his alchemical reading, having gotten to a rather interesting section, though he made sure to list the occasional name and date to cross-reference later.

At every class, Herwald tried to get the staff to correct the oversight in regards to his name, though it wasn't until Charms, where Professor Flitwick, fell off his chair at saying his old name, that the boy resolved to speak with his Head of House regarding the matter, not even bothering to correct McGonagall, who had seemingly regained control of her wits and emotions, and proved a stern, yet fair taskmaster, warning them all of the dangers of her chosen subject, Transfiguration, and how she would tolerate no horseplay. She'd seemed to glance in HIS direction as she said it, only to flinch, looking away sharply, though not before Herwald spotted the pained recollection behind her spectacles before it was replaced with her usual strict visage.

Due to its similarity with transmutation, Herwald felt he had a better understanding of the subject than most of his peers, evident when he successfully transformed his match into a needle, though admittedly it had taken a few false starts, a match and a needle being composed of two completely different elements. Had it not been for his training at the Einzbern castle, he might not have managed it at all. In the end, McGonagall had offered him a rare, albeit strangely pained smile, and five points to Slytherin house.

The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell's lessons, in Herwald opinion, were even MORE a waste of time than Binss'. At least during History it was possible to get something constructive done while the professor rambled on, but Quirrell steadfastly insisted they take down everything he said as he walked around the classroom, which reeked of garlic.

Apparently he claimed it was to ward off a vampire the man had met in Romania, in which case he was an even BIGGER fraud than Herwald first believed, as Garlic had absolutely no effect on Vampires, much less a Dead Apostle, other than to add flavour to their next meal. He certainly didn't buy the idiot's claim that the ridiculous turban he wore was a gift from an African Prince for saving the man's life from a zombie, the man's resolve to avoid speaking of the matter aside, he simply didn't look the type to risk his life for another.

Finally, Friday rolled around, a day that Draco had been looking forward to with an anticipation that bordered on unsettling, as it would be their first Potion's class, a double period at that.

"A shame we have to share with the Gryffindors." The Malfoy heir drawled, shaking his head as if this were the greatest of tragedies "Really, I don't know why Professor Snape bothers."

Herwald would normally make some comment or correct the boy for his condescending attitude, but after all the angry, accusing looks he'd been getting from the Lion's this past week, he really couldn't have cared less if Malfoy jinxed the lot. He was this close to doing it himself really.

Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons, which was notably colder than up in the main castle, an atmosphere that was enhanced by the presence of the numerous pickled animals and various other unspeakable things floating in glass jars along the walls.

Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Herwald's name. "Ah, Yes," he noted softly, looking up at Herwald with dark, calculating eyes, his lip twitching, as if he was supressing the urge to sneer "Harry Potter. Our new…_celebrity_."

"With all due respect, Potion's Master Snape, I do not consider myself a celebrity." Herwald countered, earning a look of surprise from Draco and most of the rest of the class that he'd speak back to a professor "Also, as my head of house, I believe it prudent to point out that my name is not, as of my adoption, Harry Potter any longer."

"Indeed?" the Potions Master asked, looking momentarily surprised by the boy's addressing him by his full title, only to narrow his eyes, peering into Herwald's own carefully "What DO you consider yourself then, Mr. POTTER?"

"A student, sir." Herwald countered, the adoptied Einzbern keeping his features schooled in a mask of calm, knowing that the man was trying to bait him, though he didn't know why "And again, sir, my name is no longer Potter."

"You are listed as Harry James Potter on the Hogwarts Register, and that cannot be changed for the duration of your stay here, Mr. Potter." Snape informed the boy, though it was with slightly less venom as before, his dark eyes locked onto Herwald's emerald green "I will continue to refer to you as such until such time as you either graduate or are expelled, in accordance with the rules."

"I understand, Potions Master Snape." Herwald submitted, sighing internally, realizing he'd simply have to get used to the uncomfortably foreign name while studying here "Forgive my interruption, it shall not happen again."

"See that it doesn't." Snape warned, though it was with a thoughtful expression, as if the boy had intrigued him somehow, turning back to complete the register, before setting it aside to address the class, his dark eyes cold and empty as two dark tunnels "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making." he instructed, his voice barely more than a whisper, yet the class followed every word "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…"

Herwald nodded, as that WAS the general reaction most magi took to potions, Alchemy too if it came down to it. They believed magic was simply waving your hand and saying a few stupid words in languages you probably didn't even understand, never mind the fact that a similar, if not greater effect could be achieved through a few base ingredients and the respective medium of a cauldron or transmutation circle.

"I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death…" Snape informed them, only to sneer as he eyed the Gryffindors "That is, if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Even as silence fell over the class, the man's dark eyes sought out Herwald's green, boring into them with an intensity that was startling "Potter, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"Asphodel and Wormwood make a powerful sleeping potion known as the Draught of Living Death, sir." Herwald replied smoothly, glad to have thought to read ahead, even as he ignored Hermione's hand, which had shot into the air at the question "In addition, depending on the time of year and the means of harvesting them, the potency of the potion can be affected."

Snape blinked, clearly not expecting such an educated answer, as the bit about harvest time wasn't mentioned in the first year potions book "Indeed Mr Potter, and could you tell me where I might find a bezoar?"

"A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a ruminant animal, usually a goat, Sir" Herwald answered dutifully, again ignoring Hermione's quivering hand "In addition, it serves as a potent antidote from most poisons sir."

"Indeed it will, Mr. Potter." Snape acknowledged, again ignoring Hermione, his dark eyes unreadable as ever as they continued to bore into Herwald's own "One last question then, what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling, practically hopping on the soles of her feet trying to catch his attention, only for Herwald to once again know the answer.

"Monkshood and wolfsbane, despite popular misconception, are in fact different names for the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite." The adoptive Einzbern replied, holding the Potions Masters gaze steadily "It is also a key ingredient in the Wolfsbane Potion, a recently discovered draught that grants those affected with Lycanthropy full control over their mental faculties even during the full moon."

Silence fell over the classroom, the Slytherins and Gryffindors alike waiting to see what would happen next. Snape, merely stood there, looking into Herwald's eyes, an unreadable expression on his face, even as Hermione lowered her hand, slowly, hesitatingly out of the air, as if fearful that he might ask another and she'd be too late to offer the answer.

"Fifteen points to Slytherin Mr. Potter." He muttered after a moment, his eyes never leaving the boy's face as he spoke, only to scowl at Hermione "Sit down girl, and while we're at it, why aren't the rest of you taking notes?"

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment as the class snapped back into motion, hurrying to copy down everything that had been said, Herwald doing the same out of general principle, while Snape looked on impassively, before setting them into pairs to mix up a simple potion to cure boils. Herwald, surprisingly, wound up sitting next to Neville Longbottom, much to the nervous boy's discomfort, though he seemed to open up more as Herwald slowly coaxed him through the proper process of crushing his snake fangs, determining the right weight of dried nettles, even going so far to keep the boy from adding their porcupine quills to the concoction too early, an act, he informed him, that would've resulted in the potion becoming one that CAUSED Boils to sprout, rather than remove them.

In the end, the rest of the class passed without incident, save for Ron Weasley incurring Snape's wrath by snapping back at him, costing Gryffindor Ten Points. The boy had been sullen for the rest of the class, glaring angrily at Herwald and accusingly at Neville, who'd flinched, offering Herwald an apologetic 'thank you' before making his escape when class ended for the day.

* * *

_Slytherin Common Room..._

"What a day…" Draco sighed, collapsing into one of the many armchairs that littered their common room, backed, as always, by Crabbe and Goyle "Honestly, why Weasley persists in wasting his parent's gold by attending is beyond me, the idiot couldn't boil WATER, let alone brew a half-decent potion."

Herwald said nothing, as despite the redhead's groundless antagonism, he simply didn't have a reason to dislike the boy. He'd been friendly enough on the train down, even if Herwald hadn't particularly cared to talk.

Deciding to put such thoughts out of his head for now, he returned to his room, intending to draft a letter on his first day for the family, when he caught sight of a discarded copy of the Daily Prophet, the Wizarding newspaper, lying on the nearby desktop, his eyes narrowing as he read the title.

'Someone actually broke into Gringotts?' he wondered, a little stunned if he were honest with himself, knowing of the Wizarding Bank's reputation, eyes narrowing at the date of the article 'That was the same day I was there…' he muttered warily 'A coincidence? Or was someone after something of mine?'

Either way, it seemed a letter to the Goblins was in order. While he had no doubts as to the security of his accounts, the fact that no intruder had been caught was unnerving.

* * *

And there's the first week of term.

Medic: And novone has been injured! A first to be sure.

Kyugan: For those wondering as to McGonagall's reaction, she's not being spitefull, it's simply because Herwald, despite his appearance and house, resembles his father, and this causes McGonagal some emotional turmoil. She's strict, and fair, as usual, but she can't help feeling she failed James and Lily in some way. The fact he's apparently retained his father's skill in Transfiguration will only serve to remind her more of James Potter.

Demoman: Och, the poor hen needs to get her head straight.

Kyugan: Likewise for Snape. For those that wonder why our resident MAgnificent Bastard reacted as he did, the reason is quite simple: His hatred of Harry stems from his Hatred of JAmes Potter, Whom Harry resembles almost HAUNTINGLY, save for Lilly's eyes. He'd been preparing himself for a brash, confident, arrogant prick of a gryffndor, and instead found a polite, well-mannered respectful Slytherin, which threw him off his game somewhat.

Not only that, but Herwald's appearance, albeit subtly, is different from JAmes Potter. True, the face is the same, but whereas James had short, messy hair, Herwald's is long, either braided or tied back out of his face in a ponytail. Factor in the fact the boy apparently possesses not only Lilly's eyes, but her love and skill in potions as well, and you have little reason for Snape to feel particularly vindictive towards the boy-who-lived.

Also, for those who are wondering, YES, Herwald has his hair done up like a messier version of Edward Elrics, though whether he braids it, ponytails it, or wears it down like he did when he met Hohenheim is up to you.

As for why he's befriended Draco and the Snakes, well, he never had a reason to dislike them, and he's grown up an Einzbern, so power struggles are bread and butter to him. However, he's been brought up a proper 'noble', so seeing another noble degrade themselves by uttering such bias as 'mudbloods' is offensive to him. Expect a more MAture Draco by the end of the series.

Again, keep the suggestions for Herwald's Harem coming, via review or PM if you prefer. Again, I must insist you give GOOD reasons for including them, don't just go 'Lololol Harryx(insert generic female name here) FTW.

The Taiga/Sirius pairing is confirmed, as is Sirius' survival. Why? Because it's cooler that way.

You know my stance on Harry(Herwald)/Illyasviel. Get over it people.

And now, I turn you over to our resident German Language Specialist: Medic!

Medic: ahem...

Bratwurst: A sausage usually composed of veal, pork or beef. The plural is Bratwürste.

Till next time, let the Wheel of Fate Turn...


	8. Chapter 7: Getting To Know You

Chapter Seven, Let's rock!

Medic: I AM ZE ÜBER-MAGE!

Soldier: Awww...hell...

Scout: Just calm down man...calm down-!

Heavy: COME AUTHOR! NOW IS GOOD TIME FOR KILLING LITTLE TINY BABY MEN!

Demoman: RUUUUUUUUUN-!

As the reds run off, the Spy uncloaks and sighs.

Spy: Philistines...*Lights a cigarette* Ze Wheel of Fate is Turning, let us see what zis Shift in ze Continuum has wrought, nes pas?

* * *

Getting to know you.

Having sent off the letter that evening, narrowly making it back to the common room before curfew thanks to a couple of handy passages he'd gleaned from Draco, Herwald was rather surprised when the Owl Post arrived on Monday morning, a large, official looking Snow Owl bearing the Gringotts crest depositing an equally official letter on his plate.

The letter was from Ragnok, apologizing for the delay as he was overseeing the restructuring of the security systems in place along with the other Vault Masters. He assured the young Lord that while the attempted burglar had indeed escaped uncontested or noticed, nothing had been stolen, and that Security had been tightened around his accounts, or would be once they got their hands on some fiercer dragons.

As reassuring as this was, and nothing reassured like knowing a DRAGON was guarding your treasure, it did little to settle Herwald's suspicions. He HATED unknown variables, both in his work and in his life, and whoever had managed to break into Gringotts certainly counted as one. To know someone, or something, was out there with such formidable might made him restless, and a restless Einzbern is a dangerous Einzbern, as many an unfortunate magus had learned.

However, without classes take his frustrations on, make up for Herwald's ire, the adopted Einzbern coming dangerously close to un-meditated murder when Ron Weasley, the insufferable little pillock, marched up to the Slytherin table and, in no uncertain terms, told him to 'Stay the hell away from Neville', marching off before Herwald had a chance to demand what he was on about.

"Typical Gryffindor arrogance." Draco muttered, shaking his head in disgust "They think they can just order us around because the Headmaster favours them."

"Some might say the same about US and Professor Snape." Herwald pointed out, following Ron with his eyes, glancing over at Neville only to see the round-faced boy smiling at him apologetically, the redhead clearly not speaking for their mutual acquaintance "What's on the agenda today?"

"Saw a notice up on the common room this morning." Blaise muttered, not looking up from buttering his toast as he spoke "Apparently flying lessons will be starting on Thursday, Hoop's gone and stuck us with the Gryffindors again."

"Oh honestly…" Draco muttered, his lip crling in a sneer as he glared at the Gryffindor table, more accurately the Weasley Twins, in disdain "Clearly they're trying to determine who the potential threats are for next year's Quidditch try outs." He glanced up at Herwald "I assume you will be trying out yourself?"

"I'm not that fond of Quidditch myself." Herwald admitted, earning looks of shock from practically every male Slytherin at the table "Never had the patience, and the Einzbern's had better uses for my time than playing games."

"You poor unfortunate soul." Blaise offered mock pityingly, earning a round of sniggers from the Slytherins as he shook his head "We'll have to get you on a broomstick."

"I doubt I'll ever see the need." Herwald countered, grimacing at the idea of going along with whatever archaic customs the British Wizarding world had locked themselves in "I'd sooner spend Thursday's lesson in the library, I still have a foot to do for that Transfiguration essay."

"I swear you're as bad as a Ravenclaw Herwald." Draco scoffed, though he DID look a little impressed, as they'd only gotten that assignment two days ago and it was four pages long "Brushing off flying practice to lock yourself up with Pince and some dusty old books? You're insane."

"Then you won't want a glance at my notes later?" Herwald quipped, earning a scoff from the other Slytherins and a grudging smile from Draco, who raised his hands in submission "Alright, I'll tag along, but I doubt I'll learn much."

* * *

Later...

Naturally, most of the talk in the common room that week resolved around flying and Quidditch, conversations that Herwald was forced to at least pay a semblance of attention to, lest he alienate himself from the entire common room. The principle talker was, of course, Draco, who regaled anyone who'd listen about his expertise on his broom back at Malfoy Mansion. He also complained openly and loudly about the 'archaic' rule that first years were forbidden from applying for a position on their house Quidditch teams, until Herwald pointed out several damning incidents where the first years in question had been crippled for life due to their over eagerness, their desire to prove themselves, and the opposing team's desire to start with the weakest link before it grew too strong.

It was on Thursday morning, shortly after Herwald had turned down one of the offered sweets that Draco's mother sent every day via the family's eagle owl, when large barn owl swooped down on the Gryffindor table, dropping a wrapped package onto the lap of Neville Longbottom, pilfering several slices of bacon for it's trouble while the boy began ripping the paper off excitedly. Reinforcing his eyes, a little trick Shirou had passed down from Archer, Herwald spotted a little glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke.

'A Remembrall…' he noted, quirking a brow at the gift, which instantly turned red in it's owner's hands, much to Neville's concern 'An interesting gift, it would certainly help with his studies…' he frowned as he watched Draco, Crabbe and Goyle sidle up behind the perplexed Gryffindor 'Verdammt Draco…'

Pushing away from the table, he moved towards the resulting fracas, scant seconds ahead of Professor McGonagall, laying a hand on Draco's shoulder, causing the youth to jump at his sudden appearance. "That's enough Draco." He insisted, his tone calm but pointed "Curiosity is all well and good, but when it degrades into stealing, it does nothing but hurt both parties."

Draco blinked, still clearly out of sorts by his sudden appearance, only to follow his gaze to see McGonagall coming, schooling his features into their usual haughty disinterest as he dropped the remembrall back in Neville's surprised hands, before turning on his heel and walking off, tough not before sharing a brief nod with Herwald for the warning.

"I apologize for Draco, Neville." Herwald offered, turning to look at the round-faced boy, who was cradling his recovered gift tightly "As an only child, he's not used to asking to see other's belongings before touching them."

"N-No problem…" Neville stammered, both stunned by Herwald's sudden intervention, as well as the boy's apologizing for his housemate "No harm done."

"Very useful things, Remembralls." Herwald noted, nodding his head towards the smoke filled ball, which was still a dull red "Not particularly feasible when it comes to remembering day-to-day affairs, but they're quit useful as a study tool." He nodded at the boy's shock "Try using one the next time you try to memorize something, you may be surprised by the results."

"S-Sure…" Neville stammered, looking at his little glass sphere in shock, as did Hermione, whose eyes had taken on the intrigued gleam he'd come to associate with her desire for knowledge, Herwald inclining his head towards Professor McGonagall before turning on his heel an walking off, resolutely ignoring the glares being sent his way by Ron Weasley and the rest of the Gryffindor First Years.

* * *

_Flying Lessons..._

Three-twenty that afternoon saw the Slytherin's filed down the front steps of the castle and across the grounds for their first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they marched down the sloping lawns toward a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance.

When they arrived at the pitch, it was to find at least Twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground, but no signs of their teacher Madam Hooch, nor the Gryffindors, though nobody complained too much about the latter. Herwald really could have cared less either way, as there was no way in HELL he was ever going to ride a broom if he could help it. Honestly, there were some traditions that were just MEANT to die out.

Ten minutes after their arrival, just as Draco as getting started on another of his daring, broom-mounted Helicopter chases, the Gryffindors finally showed up, Madam Hooch following suit not long after, which earned a few dark mutters from the Slytherins. After all, why had she kept THEM waiting if she'd known the Lions were going to be late?

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" the woman barked, running her yellow, hawk-like eyes over the assembled students impatiently, as if she HADN'T arrived even later than the Gryffindors "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Sighing in resignation, Herwald did as commanded and glanced down at his broom, which had clearly seen better days, the old bristles sticking out at odd angles. "Stick out your right hand over your broom," Madam Hooch called out, demonstrating with her own hand as she stood before the class "and say 'Up!'"

"UP" everyone shouted, well not everyone, Herwald had barely managed a half-hearted bark, and so was quite surprised when the old broom jumped into his hand at once, one of the few that did. Hermione's simply rolled over on the ground like a dog scratching it's back, while poor Neville's hadn't moved at all.

'Interesting…' he muttered, narrowing his eyes at the magical cleaning utensil, letting a small piece of his Od into it to analyse it's composition 'It's almost sentient…enough that it can sense the emotional state of the Rider, to best determine whether or not they're in any state to fly…'

It was the only explanation that made sense, and he'd recalled a notably quaver in Neville's voice, one that indicated he was quite happy with both feet on the ground. Unfortunately, Madam Hooch was not of the same opinion, and kept them at it until everyone's brooms were in hand, wherein she thus instructed them on how to properly mount the damn things without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips.

While Herwald had to admit it had been amusing to see Malfoy' expression when the witch had declared he'd been doing it wrong for years, he wisely kept his silence, and avoided looking at his dorm-mate as Hooch marched back to stand before them.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," the Madam instructed, holding up the whistle in question, which looked nigh indistinguishable from literally any whistle you could buy anywhere "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly." She raised the whistle to her lips and raised three fingers "On my whistle: Three, two-!"

But before she could even place the whistle between her lips, Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard, rising higher and higher into the air even as the class looked on in shock.

"Come back, boy!" Hooch shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle, her cry only serving to make the terrified Gryffindor look down, his pale white face paling even further as he realized just how high he was, the crowd crying out in alarm as he lost his grip and fell sideways off the broom.

Herwald was moving the moment he saw Neville's hands loosen their grip on the shaft of the broom, his left arm coming up, Alchemical Array humming with Prana as he envisioned a scream and a flash of green light in his mind. By the time Neville had fallen off the broom, Herwald had already dashed forwards, slapping his left hand into the ground, alchemical energy arching over it as a massive hand of earth rose from the ground to catch the startled Gryffindor out of the air, bearing him gently to the ground. "You alright, Neville?" he asked, looking at the pale, round-faced boy in concern as the earthen fingers parted to reveal him lying on his side.

"H-Harry?" Neville stammered, looking torn between shock, alarm and terror at his close-encounter with death, even as he eyed the earthen hand around him "What is this?" he asked, only to wince as he sat up, his let hand going to his right shoulder, which hung limp at his side."

"Looks like it popped out during the collision." Herwald noted, eyeing the boy's shoulder with a grimace, knowing from experience such injuries hurt like a bitch the first time round. True, he'd had HIS pop out more times than he could count, but the fact was, as a result of his training, his pain threshold was MUCH higher than that of a normal man "Madam Hooch, should I escort Neville to the Hospital Wing?" he frowned, turning at the woman's silence "Madam?"

Madam Hooch was staring at him, he eyes wide, her face pale, her gaze flicking from him, to Neville, to the giant hand and back to him so fast her eyes looked like they were twirling. His fellow students were likewise gaping at him in shock, though his fellow Slytherins, having heard through Draco that he was an Einzbern, seemed more intrigued. "Madam Hooch." Herwald called out sharply, snapping the woman out of her daze "Neville's arm's come out of his socket, I'm going to take him to the hospital wing so the class can continue."

"Wha-?" Madam Hooch stammered, looking stunned for a moment, only to snap back to her senses at the look of pain on Neville's face "Very well Mr. Potter, you may go, but be quick."

"Come on, Neville." Herwald urged, offering the injured youth his arm for support as he helped him towards the castle, ignoring the looks he was getting, which didn't end even after Madam Hooch started yelling at them not to make the same mistake "Madam Pomfrey will fix you right up."

"S-sorry for all the trouble…" Neville stammered, looking up at the boy in shame as he grimaced from the pain in his shoulder "I always seem to screw up."

"Nonsense, everyone makes mistakes." Herwald assured the boy as they limped up the steps and into the hall "Look at Draco, just the other day he was boasting about death-defying chases involving helicopters, but Madam Hooch just pointed out he's been holding his broom wrong for years."

Neville chuckled, unable to help himself, wincing slightly as the sudden move caused his shoulder to protest angrily "Ow…hey Harry…"

"Herwald." The dark-hired youth corrected, looking at the confused Gryffindor patiently with his emerald stare "I might have been born Harry Potter, but I've been Herwald von Einzbern since I was adopted into the family ten years ago."

"Einzbern?" Neville repeated, his eyes widening in shock, though Herwald was intrigued to note that, rather than fear, he seemed almost enawed by his relation to the legendary alchmists "You mean…THOSE Einzberns? So that was…?"

"WHAT are you two doing here?" a stern voice demanded, the pair looking up to see Professor McGonagal looking at them sternly, taking in Neville's dislocated arm before scowling at Herwald accusingly "What happened?"

"Please Professor." Neville stammered, drawing her attention back to him, even as Herwald scowled at her for her unspoken accusation "I had an accident during Flying Lessons, Herwald…Harry sorry," he corrected at her look of confusion "Offered to escort me to the hospital wing."

"Did he now?" McGonagall wondered looking torn between surprise and confusion, eyeing the pair carefully with an unreadable stare, before sniffing like a cat and turning round "Hurry on your way then."

* * *

_As McGonagall leaves... _

'Bitter old crone…' Herwald muttered, glaring heatedly at the woman's back as she walked off towards wherever it is bigoted old harpies went when they weren't glaring at you as if you were an affront to their senses. Shaking such thoughts from his head, as they really weren't conducive towards one's prolonged mental state, he instead resumed his trek to the hospital wing with Neville.

Upon arrival, Madam Pomfrey ushered them in, clucking her tongue in concern as she waved her wand over Neville's shoulder, popping the limb back into place before summoning a sling and ordering him to put it on, making the poor boy swallow a potion to numb the pain and speed up recovery, strictly ordering him to keep from using the arm for at least a few days, before ushering them out once more.

"At least I can still move my hand…" Neville noted, flexing his fingers haltingly, relieved that there didn't seem to be any other damage, even the pain in his shoulder dying down to a dull ache "I don't think Snape would care for my excuse that his potions essay isn't ready."

"I'll help you with it, I finished mine a few days ago." Herwald offered, earning a look of shocked gratitude from the other boy "It's not that difficult really, following potion's instructions is not all that different from cooking, you could even use your Remembrall to keep from making mistakes."

"Oh yeah…" Neville exclaimed, eyes widening at the revelation, only to pale, his good hand slapping over his pockets in alarm "Oh no! I think I've lost it!"

"It probably fell out on the grounds." Herwald deduced, patting the boy comfortingly on the shoulder to calm him down "Don't worry, I'm sure one of the others found it, I'll check in the Common Room when I get back."

"Thanks…" Neville sighed, shoulders slumping in relief, only to pause, looking up at the dark haired youth uncertainly "Um, Herwald…about what you did earlier…was that…?"

"Alchemy? Yes." Herwald assured him, pleased that the boy seemed to be taking his adoptive family's chosen profession so well "Transmutation to be precise, the Einzbern's are ranked among the world's Premiere Alchemists, what I used back there was simply a form of transmutation to shift the earth into a form best suited to catch you before you hit the ground."

"Wicked." Neville breathed, flushing scarlet at Herwald's quirked brow "I mean, sorry, but, it's just so COOL, I've heard so much about alchemy, one of my ancestors researched it before he died of illness, and it seems so much easier than normal magic."

"Nothing is EASY, Neville." Herwald countered, looking the boy in the eye "Just because Alchemy doesn't involve fancy wandwork and butchered latin doesn't make it any less dangerous to mess around with. I trained for four years straight before my instructor permitted me to so much as attempt to draw a transmutation circle, Alchemy requires an almost ridiculous attention for detail to become even half-way decent with."

Neville flinched, looking both enawed by the revelation and humbled by it, even as a mask of depression fell over his face I suppose it'd be impossible for ME to use it then…I'm hopeless at remembering stuff."

"Neither was I at first." Herwald admitted, recalling his initial attempts at memorizing the periodic table of elements with a grimace "Just consider yourself lucky to have such a useful memory training tool as a Remembrall, all I had was the strap my instructor used to whip me wiht every time I made a mistake."

"You're _joking_." Neville exclaimed, the round-faced Gryffindor looked horrified at the idea of someone actually causing grievous bodily harm to a child under their tutelage.

"I wasn't exactly well liked by the other family members." Herwald pointed out "They didn't like how an outsider was being allowed to study even the basis of their craft, so naturally they went out of their way to try and drive me off or make me fail."

"I suppose I can relate to that." Neville muttered, smiling sadly at Herwald's look "My family thought I was all-Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algernon kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me. One time he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier," he shivered at the memory "I nearly drowned, but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go."

Herwald blinked, shocked to his core that someone would so callously endanger the life of a family member. Even the Einzberns, notorious for sabotaging their relatives in order to secure their place in the race to be named heir, had an unspoken creed that no children were to be targeted. Herwald, being adopted, was an exception that proved the rule.

Neville must have spotted the look on his face, for he grinned Sheepicly and flexed his good arm in a show of false bravado "But I bounced, all the way down the garden and into the road." He smiled distantly "They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here, they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me Trevor."

'Oh yes, a fine gift for almost killing his Great-Nephew due to negligence." Herwald muttered, leading the way down to the main hall for dinner, vowing that if he ever got his hands on this 'Great Uncle Algie' the man was going to spend the rest of his life living in ponds eating flies, rules of human transmutation be damned.

* * *

_Sometime after dinner..._

Herwald returned to the Slytherin Common Room to find Draco holding court with several other first years, the heir of Malfoy looking decidedly proud of himself. "Ah, Herwald." He greeted, noticing the adopted Einzbern with a nod "Pull up a chair, we were wondering where you disappeared to after dinner."

"Sorry, was in the Library." Herwald admitted, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes tiredly as he suppressed a yawn "Was working with Neville on his potion's essay."

"I really don't see why you keep associating with Gryffindors Potter." Blaise noted from across the common room, the boy's eyes locked on a book he was reading "It's beneath you to have to lower yourself to his level."

"Actually, I found the session quite interesting." Herwald countered "Despite his failure thus far in potions, it would seem Neville's quite the prodigy when it comes to Herbology, he's actually written TWICE as much as the required assignment, and it's not even half-way to the deadline."

The Slytherin's looked thoughtful at that, for while Herbology wasn't exactly an interesting or alluring subject, it didn't change the fact that a majority of the very potions Professor Snape crafted relied on ingredients provided by the Hogwarts Greenhouses.

"I think you'd enjoy talking to him Draco." Herwald insisted "After all, Potions and Herbology are closely tied to one another, perhaps you might be able to work off each other."

"I'll think about it." Draco muttered, his tone unconvincing, though there was an intrigued glint in his eyes that spoke of Slytherin cunning "By the way, nice bit of transmutation back there."

"It was nothing." Herwald assured him, not wanting to have to start spilling his secrets "Just a basic restructuring of base elements. Even a child learns that much."

"Still damned impressive." Blaise muttered from the side, to general agreement "Longbottom could've cracked his fool head open if you hadn't been there."

"Speaking of Longbottom." Draco noted, reaching into his robes and pulling out Neville's Remembrall, a small smirk on his face "Check it out, I saw it lying on the ground, the great lout must've dropped it when he went up."

"Well that gives you an excuse to go talk to him tomorrow then." Herwald reasoned, yawning again, only to blink as he patted his bookbag "Scheiße! I left my Alchemic Text back in the Verdammt Library!"

"Bad luck there." Blaise offered, wincing in sympathy "Knowing that miser Pince, she's probably already stamped a Hogwarts tag on it and shoved it on a shelf somewhere." He blinked as Herwald turned to leave the room "Wait where're you going? It's past curfew!"

"I won't be long." Herwald assured them, the door to the common room shutting behind him before her could hear their replies, the teen looking left, then right, before raising the Potter ring to his lips and whispering 'Ignotus', not even flinching as his form vanished before his eyes, the youth nodding grimly before making his way determinedly down the corridor towards the library.

He truly had to marvel at the power of the ring, normally invisibility spells required a larger medium, such as a cloak or the user's own body, yet the ring allowed for complete and total invisibility despite its limited size, though it didn't stop his footsteps from echoing around the walls.

'There you are…' he muttered, slipping into the library, which Madam Pince was just shutting down for the night, slipping out with his precious text tucked into his robes to prevent her from seeing it floating in mid-air, before making his way dwn the hallway, a frown on his features as he cursed the suits of armour for their nighttime wanderings 'Now then…which way was that secret tunnel?'

"Sniff around, my sweet," a cruel voice urged in a sickly sweet tone, Herwald recognizing it as Filch the caretakers, sliding up against the wall to avoid bumping into the cantankerous old squib "they might be lurking in a corner."

Narrowing his eyes in confusion, wondering just what on earth the bitter old man was on about, the invisible Einzbern followed the sound of the voice, stepping slowly and carefully around the corner until he reached an open doorway which led to what appeared to be a trophy room.

Filch stood with his back to him, a torch in one hand and a stick in the other, he was peering into the gloom, an eager, almost sinister look on his ugly face, while around his ankles the equally disliked form of Miss Norris padded, the feline familiar's eyes peering into the darkness for her master's targets.

Out of the corner of his eye, Herwald caught a flicker of movement, the Slytherin youth's eyes widening as he espied a pale-faced Neville Longbottom cowering behind a stack of trophies, only seconds away from being spotted by the bitter old man.

Herwald didn't know what Neville was doing here after hours, and he didn't realy care. The fact was that the boy was a friend, and Filch was not, and as Shirou had taught him, a man that abandoned their friends deserved to die in a ditch.

So under the cover of invisibility, Herwald swept into the room, reaching down and scooping up the startled miss Norris, who'd opened her mouth to yowl at the sight of her prey, whipping round and promptly fulfilled the dreams of every student that had walked the halls of Hogwarts by drop-kicking the malignant moggy down the corridor.

"MRS NORRIS!" Filch wailed, bitter Squib of a caretaker looking horrified at the sudden, unexpected attack on his beloved familiar, his prey forgotten as he raced out of the trophy room, Herwald pressing against the wall to avoid being trampled, before racing down the hall "I'm coming my sweet! Hang on!"

* * *

_As Filch races off..._

'That man has some SERIOUS issues." Herwald muttered, the invisible youth shaking his head in disbelief, before turning to look at Neville, who was pressed up against the wall in alarm "You might want to get out of here before he comes back."

"Who the bloody-?" a voice yelped, Herwald jumping in surprise, the invisible Einzbern turning to see none ther than Ron Weasley looking around in alarm for the source of the voice, an equally alarmed Hermione Granger nearby.

"Herwald?" Neville called out, the recovering Gryffindor's brows furrowed in confusion as he peered into the spot to the invisible teen's left, having appaently recognized his Slytherin Friend's voice "Is that you?"

"In the flesh." Herwald admitted, dropping the spell, reappearing before the three Gryffidors like a ghost, prompting a yelp from Weasley "Keep it down, dummkopf!" he hissed sharply "Unless you WANT Filch to come back." He eyed the trio carefully "Just what are you three doing out here this late anyway?"

"Why the hell should we tell YOU?" Ron snapped, glaring at the brunette accusingly, even as Hermione shot him a disapproving glance.

"We're here because Ronald got into an argument with Draco Malfoy over who was the better flyer." The girl supplied, ignoring the irate look the redhead sent her way, even as he muttered 'don't call me Ronald' under his breath "Malfoy challenged him to a wizard's duel in the trophy room at midnight, I tried to talk him out of it but he wouldn't listen and now here we are."

"Why am I not surprised?" Herwald sighed, gripping the bridge of his nose in exasperation, vowing to have a LONG talk with Draco later, even as he looked at the other two "Though that doesn't explain why you and Neville are here, Frau Granger."

"Well…" Hermione muttered, shooting a baleful look at Ron, "After I followed this mule-headed idiot out into the halls, we found Neville sleeping outside. Apparently h'd forgotten the password and had been stuck out in the corridor for some time." She smiled apologetically at the round-faced boy's look of embarrassment "When we tried to get back in, it was to find the Fat Lady had picked that moment to go off and visit one of her friends somewhere, so we were stuck tagging along for this ridiculous duel."

"Which turned out to be a very cunning trap." Herwald muttered, sighing once again "I don't know who to be more exasperated with, Draco for actually coming up with this plan or Ron for falling for it."

"Don't you call me Ron!" the redhead snapped, his face as red as his hair, though whether it was from anger or embarrassment or both was anyone's guess "Only friends and family get to call me that, and I don't make friends with Slytherins!"

"Oh?" Herwald noted, suppressing the brief sense of hurt that the redhead's words inspired in his heart, even as he allowed a hint of ice to enter his tone "What a coincidence, I don't make friends with ignorant bigots that lack the brains to fill a thimble."

"That's enough!" Hermione snapped, stepping between the two before they could come to blows, her wand pointed a Ron's face "Ronald, back down or so help me I'll jinx you." She turned to Herwald, ignoring Ron's splutters of indignation "And Harry…Herwald," she corrected at his quirked brow "don't take what he said personally, we're thankful for your help."

"It was nothing, Fräulein." Herwald assured her, giving her a polite bow that, even in the gloom, caused her face to light up in embarrassment "Now what say we get the Holle out of here before that bitter old Verrückter get's tired of chasing his pussy through the halls?"

The joke had the desired effect of Hermione's face flushing like a radioactive tomato in a frizzy wig. Neville was forced to smother a choked laugh with his hand, even Ron managing a grudging snort as they filed out of the room, Herald leading the way in case Filch doubled back the other way.

They hadn't gone more than a dozen paces when a doorknob rattled and something came shooting out of a classroom in front of them, Herwald's eyes narrowing as Peeves the Poltergeist caught sight of them, the horrid little spectre unleashing a squeal of delight.

* * *

Spy: *Nasal laugh* Hauhauhau! Oh Zut alors that was good, a little short but good.

Medic: OKTOBERFEST! *Rushes past the room, only to blink* Oh, Spy, where were you?

Spy: With Ze Blue Scouts Mozer. (Smile as he kisses a photo of the woman) Now, where is le auteur?

Medic: He and Heavy stopped to make Sandviches in zer Kitchen.

Spy: but ov course...Now would you mind translating a few words?

MEdic: Mein Pleasure...ahem...

Dummkopf: Idiot, Dumbass, Stupid-head, Shinji Ikari (According to Asuka Langely Sohryuu/Shikinami)

Verrückter: Crackpot, crazy person.

Verdammt: Damn.

Spy: Merci, mon ami, and now, ze Omake!

Omake: Punt it Like Potter.

Herwald didn't know what Neville was doing here after hours, and he didn't realy care. The fact was that the boy was a friend, and Filch was not, and as Shirou had taught him, a man that abandoned their friends deserved to die in a ditch.

So under the cover of invisibility, Herwald swept into the room, reaching down and scooping up the startled miss Norris, who'd opened her mouth to yowl at the sight of her prey, whipping round and promptly fulfilled the dreams of every student that had walked the halls of Hogwarts by drop-kicking the malignant moggy down the corridor.

As he did so, the portraits that lined the wall suddenly let out a tremendous cheer of 'GOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAALLLLL!' and the suits of armour lunged forwards, dropping to their knees before raising their gauntlets over their helmets, shaking their fists in the air even as Filch ran past swearing venemously.

Needless to say, The Slytherins were VERY confused as to how they'd suddenly been awarded an additional Hundred points the following morning, nor could they comprehend why Filch kept glaring at them accusingly in the halls.


	9. Chapter 8: This is Halloween

Spy: Ow long does it take to make a Sandwhich?

Medic: Vith Heavy?

Spy: Point taken...

Kyugan: *Walks in munching on sandvich* What I miss?

Spy: About 'alf a chapter, you left off on a cliff'anger.

Kyugan: Ah Balls, hang on, I'll fix that.

Medic: You vouldn't happen to haf more sandviches vould you?

Kyugan: *holds up lunchbox* Take your pick, there's Kuncheon meat, Corned beef, Bratwurst, Tuna salad, several different types of cheese...

Spy: You are a marvel *Helps himself to a cheese Sandvich* Mmmm, magnifique...

Kyugan: You flatter me, don't stop. In any case, the Wheel of Fate is Turning, let us see what the Shift in the Continuum has wrought...

* * *

Halloween 

"Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties?" Peeves cackled, the poltergeist's beady little eyes twinkling with decidedly evil intent a he leered down at the gathered students "Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caught-y."

"Get out of my way, you parasite." Herwald snapped, startling not only the Gryffindors behind him, but Peeves as well "I am in no mood for your shenanigans."

"Oooh, ickle firstie thinks he's tough does he?" the Poltergeist sneered, waggling his eyes in what he probably thought was an intimidating manner "Should tell Filch, I should," he stated ominously, in a saintly voice that belied the wicked glitter in his eyes "It's for your own good, you know."

"Oh get out of the way you little prick!" Ron snapped, the irate redhead, clearly not liking having to follow a Slytherin's lead, taking a swipe at Peeves before Herwald could think to stop him.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" the Poltergeist bellowed, cupping his hands around his mouth to amplify the sound "STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"

Herwald swore, ducking under Peeves, the Gryffindors following suit as the ran for their lives, the Poltergeists mocking cackles following at their heels as they came to a door at the end of the corridor, which was predictably locked. "This is it!" Ron moaned, the redhead leaning against the door helplessly even as Peeves' cackles drew ever closer to their location "We're done for! This is the end!"

"Is he always this dramatic?" Herwald demanded, shooting an sideways glance at Neville, who shrugged helplessly, the Slytherin sighing in exasperation "Move aside Lion Wärme," he muttered sarcastically, shoving a blinking Ron unceremoniously away from the handle, pointing the ring of Kay at it with a scowl "Offen."

The lock clicked and the door swung open, the students literally toppling over themselves as they charged through, Herwald shutting it quickly behind them, leaning against it to listen for their pursuers.

"Which way did they go, Peeves?" Filch's voice demanded, the caretaker sounding out for blood, his voice trembling with emotion, none of them very pleasant "Tell me where they went! I'll string them up by their thumbs for this!"

"Say 'please.'" Peeves sneered, his singsong voice laced with mockery, the poltergeist cackling maniacally as Filch snarled in anger, threatening grievous bodily harm despite the fact he couldn't touch the ghost "Shan't say nothing if you don't say please."

"All right…" Filch snarled, as if the very thought of submitting to the detestable little spirit made him sick to his twisted, bitter core "_PLEASE_."

"NOTHING!" Peeves cackled, his voice racing down the corridor "Told you I wouldn't say nothing if you didn't say please!"

"I think I might revise my opinion of that poltergeist…" Herwald muttered, even as he listened to Filch's enraged cursing follow after the little man "I may just make his exorcism a painless one-what is it Neville?"

"H-Herwald…" the round faced boy stammered, his face paler than any other time Herwlad could remember as he tugged incessantly on the boy's robes, Ron and Hermione standing with their backs pressed against the door "L-L-L-Look…"

Herwald turned, and damn near shit himself as he gaped at the monstrous form of the dog that occupied the entirety of the room behind them, so big it filled the whole space between ceiling and floor. It had three heads, each set with three pairs of rolling, mad eyes, three noses, twitching and quivering in their direction and three drooling mouths, saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs.

'A Cerberus…' his mind realized, in that strange, detached way that one sometime s experiences when the body freezes up as your life flashes before your eyes 'It's a Gott Verdammt Cerberus. Vas de HOLLE is a Gott Verdammt CERBERUS doing in a school?'

The Cerberus, unaware of the teen's mental dilemma, was standing quite still, all six eyes staring at them in what appeared to be shock, and suddenly Herwald knew that the only reason they weren't already dead was that their sudden appearance had taken the beast by surprise, but it was quickly getting over that, there was no mistaking what those thunderous growls meant.

Quickly opening the door, causing Ron and Hermione to tumble out backwards, Herwald dragging a petrified Neville out by the scruff of his neck before slamming the door behind him, using his Left hand to alchemically weld the door shut, before collapsing in a boneless heap with his back against it.

"What the bloody hell do they think they're doing?" Ron demanded, the redhead looking thoroughly petrified by the experience "Keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?" said Ron finally. "If any dog needs exercise, that one does."

"You don't use your eyes very often, do you?" Hermione sniped, the bushy-haired brunette having gotten both her breath and her bad temper back apparently as she glared at the redhead "Didn't you see what it was standing on?"

"The floor?" Neville wondered, the poor boy clutching his heat with his right hand, flinching as the girl turned her irate glare on HIM "No offence Hermione, but I was too busy looking at its heads to care about its feet."

"She means the Trapdoor." Herwald pointed out, the Slytherin's heart-rate having dropped down from Mach 5 o something a little more tolerable to human bodies "It was standing on a trapdoor. It's obviously guarding something. Only natural really, Cerberi are some of the best guard dogs in history."

"Well whatever the hell it's guarding is safe from ME." Ron muttered, getting to his feet with a grimace, eying the sealed door warily "Because there's no way in HELL I'm going anywhere near that thing again."

"Yes that's possibly the smartest thing you've said all night. Hermione sniped, getting to her feet and glaring at the redhead "Maybe next time you accept a challenge from a Slytherin you'll remember this night and stop yourself, or at the very least don't get other people dragged into it and killed, or worse, EXPELLED."

That said, she marched off, leaving three gaping males gazing after her in disbelief. "Well…" Herwald chuckled weakly "I suppose it's good to see she has her priorities sorted."

Neville chuckled, while Ron muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'Bloody Mental' under his breath, the two Gryffindors heading after their dorm-mate while Herwald made his way back to the dungeon, activating the ring the moment he was sure he was alone, his mind whirring with new questions.

What was so important that the Headmaster had shut down an entire wing of the castle, had risked bringing a Cerberus into the school to defend?

For some reason, the Gringotts break-in rose to mind, and Herwald had a sneaking suspicion he knew the location of whatever the thief had been looking for in vault seven hundred and thirteen.

* * *

_The next day..._

By the time Herwald returned to the Slytherin Dungeon, most of the year, with the exception, surprisingly of Draco, Crabbe and Goyle, had gone back to bed, the Malfoy heir stating that they were wondering what on earth as taking so long. Herwald left out the incident with the Cerberus, not deeming it conducive towards his extended stay if someone knew he'd been in the forbidden corridor, and so merely told a dumbed down version of his encounter with Filch.

While Draco seemed displeased that his plan to get Ron in trouble had come to nothing, Hermione and Neville would have been a nice, albeit unexpected bonus, this didn't stop him from cackling along with Crabbe and Goyle when Herwald recounted how he'd drop-kicked Mrs. Norris, the four of them marching off to bed with tears of mirth in their eyes, though not before Herwald extracted a promise from Draco to return Neville's remembrall the following morning.

He did so, much to the surprise of the Gryffindors, steadfastly ignoring Ron as he dropped the mist-filled ball onto Neville' plate, before walking off. It was a good thing that the younger Weasley lacked any of the noted 'Magic Eyes', as Herwald had no doubt if he did, it'd probably be something along the lines of instant combustion judging by the sheer hatred in his eyes.

It was rather nice to not be on the receiving end of that glare for once, it allowed Herwald to focus on more important things, such as what in Gott's name Dumbledore deemed so important he'd bring something as ridiculously dangerous as a CERBERUS into the school. He suspected it had something to do with the incident at Gringotts, as he dimly recalled seeing Hagrid, there couldn't be TWO Half-Giants with beards like that and moleskin overcoats, at the bank that day.

'It's either really valuable or really dangerous.' Herwald muttered, tapping his chin in thought as he played with his porridge 'Knowing that lunatic, it's probably both.'

He kept his musings to himself, as he'd overheard an argument between Ron, Neville and Hermione, the former wanting to find out what the dog was guarding, typical Gryffindor really, while Neville and Hermione wanted nothing more to do with the monstrous hound, Hermione making it QUITE clear that if the redhead did ANYTHING that would deduct points from Gryffindor house, she'd report him to McGonagall the first chance she got.

Ron, naturally, hadn't taken this rather well, and went out of his way to insult the girl, mocking her for her overzealous approach to lessons, her appearance, never to her face, but certainly within earshot.

Herwald, while disapproving of the boy's callous treatment of the girl, even if she WAS a little stuck-up, decided not to get involved, instead focussing his attentions on his work. He could hardly believe how fast time had flown, it seemed only yesterday he'd tried on the Sorting Hat, yet if the letters he was receiving from the others were to be believed, he'd been at Hogwarts for over two months. Admittedly, he'd never call the Castle 'Home', that was a title he reserved solely for the Emiya Estate, but it was certainly more comfortable than the Einzbern Castle had ever been, even with the annoying Staircases, magical doors, animated suits of armour and Peeves making a pest of himself.

* * *

_Halloween morning..._

The smell of baking pumpkin wafted through the corridors, giving it a pleasant, if slightly sweet presence. The Slytherins were currently in Charms class, where the ever excitable Professor Flitwick, who seemed to have gotten over the novelty of Herwald being in his class, declared them ready to attempt the levitation spell, which earned a few eager looks from the other serpents, especially after he'd levitated a few of them off their chairs.

Herwald had paired with Goyle for the class, having explained to a disappointed Draco that by helping their classmates, they'd garner more points for Slytherin house. Draco had, reluctantly, agreed, and so had paired with Crabbe, leading the other boy through the deceptively simple incantation.

"It's useless…" Goyle muttered, his low, rasping voice surprisingly petulant as he stared at the feather before him "I'm never gonna manage this."

"Just calm down, Gregory." Herwald insisted, patting the boy on the shoulder, using his first name whereas Draco would use his last "It's all in the pronunciation really; the wand movement is simply to determine which direction the feather goes." To demonstrate, he flicked his wand sideways and recited the chant, causing the Feather to levitate to the right, rather than straight up "See, it's all focus and pronounciation."

"I AM focussing…" Goyle muttered sullenly, the larger boy looking downcast even as Professor Flitwick awarded Herwald Ten points for being the first to manage the spell. "I just can't seem to say the damn thing right."

"Yes, you do seem to make the common mistake of dropping the 'R' in GAR." Herwald noted patiently, blinking as he swore he heard someone that sounded suspiciously like Archer swear in the background, before shaking it off "You just need to slow down, everyone seems to think that simply because the wand moves quickly, you need to say the incantation quickly too."

Goyle frowned, letting this thought run through his head, the broad-shouldered Slytherin turning back to the feather, pointing his wand at it before taking a deep breath "Wing-_gar_-dium Levi-_o_-sah!" he uttered carefully, only flicking his wand upwards at the last second, his eyes opening wide as the feather rose up to eye level before dropping as he lost control.

"Well done Mr. Goyle." Flitwick squeaked, nodding his head in approval "And Mr. Potter? Take another Ten points for assisting a classmate."

Goyle was in a surprisingly good mood for the rest of the class, chatting animatedly with Herwald about his family's trade, which surprisingly enough was yeast, a key ingredient in the fermentation of most alcohols and baked goods, the Goyle's possessed several breweries and bakeries as a result.

They were just in the middle of a discussion regarding the pros and cons of different fermentation methods, having just finished Transfiguration, when Hermione Granger knocked into Herwald, who staggered back, noting with surprise that the Muggle-born Gryffindor was in tears, before she continued on down the halls at a run.

"What in Salazar's name is wrong with that girl?" Draco muttered, scowling after the Gryffindor in distaste "I know she's a Muggle-born," he'd gotten used to avoiding the word 'Mudblood' whenever Herwald was in earshot "But I would have at least thought she'd been brought up with some common courtesy."

Herwald said nothing, merely narrowed his eyes at the approaching Gryffindors, Ron Weasley in particular, who were coming down the stairs for their joint Potions lesson. The redhead, who was chatting about something with Seamus Finnegan, flinched at the glare, only to return it with equal venom, though he soon was forced to duck his head, unable to keep up the intensity, scuttling past Herwald glaring at him suspiciously until Neville walked past "What happened?"

"Well…" Neville stammered, eyeing Draco, Crabbe and Goyle warily, only for the trio to steadfastly ignore him "Hermione was paired with Ron in class…" he chuckled as Herwald winced, the Einzbern already sensing where this was going "Right, well you know Hermione, always has to get the last word, she TRIED to help, but Ron's temper just kept getting in the way and he snapped at her."

"Typical Weasley." Draco snorted, shaking his head mockingly as he spoke "Worse than a lit match in a Firework factory, I swear."

"Yes, well…" Neville stammered, unsure how to take that comment, for while Ron WAS a bit of a hothead, he was still a fellow Gryffindor and Malfoy was a Slytherin "Then Hermione performed the spell on her first try and Ron got embarrassed, so as we were coming out of class he mentioned how nobody could stand her, called her a nightmare."

"I'd hate to wake up and see her hair looming over me at night certainly." Draco admitted, holding up his hands to waylay Herwald's look of disapproval, though Herwald had to admit Hermione's hair WAS unsettlingly bushy.

"I assume that Hermione overheard?" the Einzbern asked, earning a grim nod from his round-faced Gryffindor friend "Did anyone try to stop her?"

"I was near the back of the class." Neville admitted, looking crestfallen "I only heard what happened after Hermione ran off."

"And nobody thought to tell the little prick off?" Herwald demanded, both brows furrowed in annoyance with the redhead "Didn't the other girls tell him off?"

"Not as such no…" Neville countered, looking uncomfortable "As much as I hate to admit it, Ron's right about her not having any friends in Gryffindor…everyone avoids her except me, and even I find her a little overbearing sometimes."

"Gryffindors aren't noted for their love of know-it-alls." Draco supplied with a grudging nod, arms crossed before him "The girl would've been better suited in Ravenclaw, I hear they LIVE for a good educational debate." He snorted dismissively "Enough of this, we're going to be late for Potions. You coming Longbottom?"

* * *

_Later... _

Hermione didn't turn up for Potions class, Herwald pairing with Neville once again to prevent any mishaps, which were surprisingly less frequent now that the boy had taken his advice regarding the Remembrall to heart.

The two had parted afterwards, Neville promising to ask around for Hermione, only to approach the Slytherin table during dinner, claiming the girl hadn't shown up for ANY of her classes that afternoon.

"Ron says he overheard Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown gossiping about her." The round-faced boy stated concernedly "He said they were making fun of her because she was crying in the girls' bathroom and wanted to be left alone."

Herwald frowned, turning to glare over his shoulder at the Weasley youth, who was stuffing himself, as usual, at the Gryffindor table, his dorm mates leaning back to avoid being hit by projectile leftovers. He was just about to march over and DRAG the little bastard off to apologize when Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall, his turban askew, a look of terror on his face

"Troll!" the turbaned twit yelled, racing up the aisles towards the head table as everyone looked on "Troll in the dungeons!" he elaborated, pulling up just in front of Dumbledore's chair, "Thought you ought to know." He uttered, an almost serene expression on his face, before he keeled over, passing out in front of the stunned staff just as the hall erupted into an uproar.

'What an idiot…' Herwald muttered, glaring at the recumbent form of Quirrell even as pandemonium filled the air, the students, even the Slytherins looking around in panic for the monster that had invaded their supposedly 'safe' school 'He just made this harder than it has to be.'

It took several purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Dumbledore's wand to bring some semblance of silence back to the hall, the aged Headmaster's eyes no longer twinkling a he ordered the Prefects to escort their respective houses back to their dormitories, Herwald falling into line with the rest of the Slytherins, only to pause as Neville gripped his arm.

"Herwald, what about Hermione?" the Gryffindor exclaimed, looking around in a panic even as Percy Weasley yelled at him to hurry up "She doesn't know about the troll! What if she bumps into it in the halls?"

Herwald stiffened, the image of Hermione, who barely came up to his eye level, coming across a Full Grown Troll, which could stand at over Ten feet tall and was as strong as it was both stupid and ugly, flashing through his mind.

"Get back to your house, Neville." He urged, gripping the boy's shoulder as he spoke "I'm serious, do NOT go out in the halls, I'll let the Headmaster know there's a student in the halls."

Neville blinked, looking torn between wanting to help, only for Percy Weasley, the Gryffindor prefect, to yell at him to come on, the round-faced boy dashing off with a last look over his shoulder. The moment he was out of sight, Herwald slipped into the cue with the rest of the Slytherin's, just long enough for the Prefect to notice him, before slipping off the first chance he got, activating his ring and dashing back out into the corridors, his eyes hard and his footsteps light, as he struggled to recall the layout of the castle, more accurately, the location of the Girl's bathroom Hermione was supposed to have sealed herself in.

'It's times like this I REALLY miss Assassin.' He muttered grimly. The female Servant had been a MASTER tracker, blending into the shadows and stalking her target for hours without being detected.

Pressing against a wall to avoid the Hufflepuffs, who were looking particularly nervous, the invisible youth counted to three before slipping down a deserted side corridor only to blink as he caught sight of a familiar form approaching from the opposite direction.

'Professor Snape?' he wondered, ducking hurriedly behind a large stone griffin, watching as the hook-nosed Potions Master swept past, his robes billowing theatrically in his wake 'Vas de Hölle is HE doing here? Why's he headed for the Third Floor Corridor?' his eyes narrowed in sudden realization 'Ah…so that's what's going on…'

It all made sense now, how the Troll, which was the stupidest thing you could find on two legs, had managed to 'conveniently' wander into the Dungeons, which were the securest place in the damned castle. Someone had let the brute in, no doubt to distract the faculty while they swept in and stole the stone.

He instantly dismissed Snape as the thief, the man may have his flaws but he didn't seem the type to resort to common theft. Not only that, but Herwald had read up on him, and Albus Dumbledore himself has spoken very highly of the man, even when he'd been accused of being a follower of Voldemort years ago.

'Not Snape then.' He muttered, counting to ten before sneaking out from behind the griffin and down the hallway towards the bathroom 'Certainly not McGonagall or Hagrid, they practically WORSHIP the old man, and I doubt Flitwick or Sprout would be foolhardy enough to let a Troll into the building…'

He trailed off as a horrendous stench assaulted his nostrils, worse than anything he'd ever smelt before, and this was after a lifetime's exposure to alchemical reactions and chemicals. It was accompanied by low grunting, and the shuffling footfalls of gigantic feet, Herwald's eyes narrowing as a path of moonlight eliminated his target.

* * *

_The Troll..._

It was even uglier than he'd thought, standing twelve feet tall with dull, granite gray skin, its great lumpy body like a boulder with a coconut perched on top for a head. It had short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet and overly-long arms which ended in massive hands, one of which held a massive wooden club, which it dragged along the floor gormlessly.

'That is one, big, ugly fucker…' Herwald muttered, grimacing at the creature's grotesque appearance, only to scowl as it paused, peering into an open doorway. It waggled its long ears, making up its tiny mind, then slouched slowly into the room, from which a high, petrified scream soon emerged "HERMIONE!"

Not even bothering to attempt stealth, he rushed forwards, slamming through the doorway, his eyes narrowing as he espied Hermione, her face stained red with tear and her hair a mess, trying to shrink against the opposite wall, looking on the verge of fainting, between her and the exit stood the troll, the gormless behemoth advancing on her n a slow, predatory manner, knocking the sinks off the walls as it went.

"GET THE HÖLLE AVAY FROM HIER YOU MISSGEBURTEN SCHEISSKOPF!" he roared, not even bothering to drop his invisibility, instead lunging forwards, one hand grabbing a discarded piece of piping with his left hand, green light and a woman's scream flashing through his mind as he pumped Od into his Circuits, the piping shifting form into a nasty looking dagger even as he leapt up onto the beast's back, stabbing it right between the shoulder blades.

Normally, all this would have done is make the troll angry, as their skin is magical, second only to that of dragons when it comes to warding off attacks. But Herwald's dagger was designed with an edge no thicker than a molecule, a knack he'd developed during his training with the Einzberns prior to the war and perfected during his encounters with Gilgamesh and Kotomine, and as such was perfect for slicing through anything that wasn't protected by copious amounts of magic.

And while troll hide WAS magically resistant, it wasn't protected by several layers of armoured scales, so it came as no surprise that Herwald's blade buried itself up to the hilt between the beast's massive shoulder blades.

The Troll howled, rearing back as the blade dug deep into its flesh, thrashing around in agonized confusion, trying to dislodge the invisible attacker. Herwald, knowing that he had to end this quick, gave the dagger a sharp twist, earning another howl from the troll, before leaping off the beast, rolling clear just as it crashed backwards into the wall behind it in an attempt to dislodge the knife, only serving to drive it DEEPER into it's back.

Rising swiftly to his knees, the invisible Einzbern slammed his left palm onto the floor, pumping od through his array once more, the floor beneath the troll liquefying briefly, swallowing the monster's legs up to the knees, before solidifying again, locking the monster in place as Herwald raced up and grabbed it's face.

"Sorry about this…" he muttered insincerely, reappearing before the troll so that the dumb brute could at least see its killer "But you're just too ugly to let live."

So saying, he activated the array in his left arm, the troll letting out one last horrified roar before its head exploded into a gory mess, staining Herwald's robes in its thick grey blood.

* * *

Medic: Gott in Himmel...

Spy: *Cigarette falling from numb lips* Sacre Bleu that vas...incroiable!

Kyugan: Glad to be of service, Medic, if you would.

Medic: Ja-jawhol...Mein Pleasure...

Holle: Hell.

Lion Wärme: Lion Heart.

Missgburten: Deformed, malformed.

Shissekopf: Shithead.

Verdammt: Damn.

Kyugan: More to come! Kudos to those who get the Arnie reference.


	10. Chapter 9: Suspicions

Kyugan: In order to make up for how short the last chapter was, this one's a little longer than normal.

Spy: Are you certain you can't make me a knife like that?

Kyugan: For the last time NO, the only reason Herwald can do it is because of years and years and YEARS of practice, not to mention combat against the King of HEROES and a Corrupted Grail empowered Kotomine. Besdies, the Knife itself isn't that special, only the EDGE is no thicker than a molecule, other than that it's an ordinary knife.

Spy: Merde...so many wasted opportunities.

Kyugan: In any case, the Wheel of Fate is Turning, let us see what the Shift in the Continuum has wrought...

* * *

Suspicions.

"Scheiße…" Herwald muttered, grimacing as he released the pulped remains of the Troll's skull, shaking his fingers to get the worst of the bloody mess off him "I don't envy the Castle Cleaning staff…this is going to be MURDER to get out."

"H-Harry?" a nervous voice stammered hesitantly, the Einzbern turning to see Hermione looking at him from her spot against the wall, the Gryffindor Girl's features torn between shock and horror "Is…is that you, Harry?"

"Herwald, actually." The youth corrected, though it was with a soft, soothing tone as he regarded the terrified Gryffindor before him "Are you alright, Frau Granger?"

Before the girl could reply, the door to the bathroom slammed open, the students whipping round, Herwald putting himself between the girl and the perceived attackers, only to blink at the sight of Professors McGonagall, Snape and Quirrell, who entered the room with wands raised, only to gape at the remains of the Troll, Quirrell himself looking particularly pale at the sight of it.

"What in God's name…" McGonagall breathed, the Deputy Headmistress looking from the troll's remains to the two students, her eyes widening as she espied the blood on Herwald's robes "Mr. Potter! Miss Granger! What in God's name happened here?"

"Neville Longbottom approached me at dinner, informing me that Frau Granger had been bullied by Ron Weasley and had locked herself in the toilet since earlier this afternoon." Herwald replied calmly, holding the enraged Deputy-Headmistress's gaze with his own, refusing to be intimidated "As such, he was concerned that she hadn't received the warning about the troll, and wanted to go fetch her. I talked him out of it, as he is still recovering from his injury from the Flying Lesson, and instead went to find her myself."

"Is this true, Miss Granger?" McGonagall demanded, looking at Hermione, who was gaping at Herwald in shock from behind the teen, and could only manage stunned nod "I see…" she muttered, turning to Herwald with frown "Why did you not bring this to my or Professor Snape's attention?"

"Neither you, Potion's Master Snape, or any other faculty member were nearby when Neville informed me of Frau Granger's plight." Herwald countered calmly "It would have taken forever to scour the castle looking for you, by which time the Troll could have beaten her to death and eaten, or worse, RAPED her." He glared at the Troll's remains, even as the two females twitched at the mention of 'rape', Hermione clutching the back of his robes tighter "I apologize if this displeases you, Deputy-Headmistress, but if you're expecting me to apologize for saving her life you will have to wait a very long time."

They stood in silence, McGonagall staring down at the green-eyed Slytherin with a conflicted expression, shock and affront warring for dominance behind her spectacles. Behind her, Snape had looked up from his examination of the Troll's remains, and was currently levelling his trademark unreadable expression at the boy, while Quirrell made a show of vomiting into one of the few remaining sinks, his turban still askew.

"Quirinus." the Scottish witch spoke up after a moment, though her eyes never left Herwald's emerald green for a second "Please escort Miss Granger to Gryffindor Common Room, would you?" she ignored the man's weak reply in favour of glancing at Hermione "And Miss Granger, in future I would hope you come to ME if something is troubling you. Crying your eyes out in a toilet is NOT how one solves their problems." Her features softened at Hermione's flinch "Rest assured I shall be speaking with Ronald Weasley about his involvement in this as well, now run along."

Hermione bowed her head, uttering a choked 'Yes Professor', her brown eyes glancing concernedly towards Herwald, who offered her a small, reassuring nod, though his eyes never left McGonagall's face, even after Quirrell had finally gotten his stomach under control long enough to escort the Gryffindor girl out of the ruined bathroom. "And as for YOU, Mr. Potter…" McGonagall continued, "I would like to know just what in God's name happened here. Just WHAT happened to the troll?"

"I believe, Minerva, that as a student of MY house, it is up to ME to interrogate him." Snape countered, the Potion's Master getting to his feet "Besides, Albus needs to be informed as to what happened here, and you already have another boy to give account for his part in this."

McGonagall pursed her lips, not wanting to concede the argument to Snape, but unable to deny that, as a Slytherin, Herwald was HIS responsibility. In the end she turned to Herwald with a frown, though her eyes were less accusing this time. In fact, unless Herwald was reading her wrong, the Gryffindor Head seemed almost…proud?

"I don't know what happened here, or what you might have done, Mr. Potter, but you were VERY lucky, not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll." She offered a small, approving smile "Then again, most First years wouldn't risk their life for a fellow student not of their own house. Ten points to Slytherin Mr. Potter, I leave you now in the care of your Head of House. Severus."

"Minerva." Snape nodded, giving way for the elder professor to sweep past him, his eyes on her back as she walked out the door, before turning to face Herwald with his usual, calculating stare "Well then, you certainly are an interesting one, Mr. Einzbern."

"I see Draco was telling the truth." Herwald noted, the Malfoy heir having told him once, in confidence, that the Potions Master was his Godfather, and confidant while he was within the walls of hogwarts proper "Am I in trouble, sir?"

"Were you in any other house, Mr. Einzbern, I'd have you hauled down to the Station and onto the Express before you could say 'Expelled'." The Potions Master sneered, though it was only slightly mocking "As it is, while I am VERY angry with you for attacking a full grown Mountain Troll, for a Gryffindor no less, I admit I find myself MORE intrigued by your means of defeating the beast."

He turned to the cooling corpse of the beast, which was relatively intact from the neck down, but from the neck up resembled noting more than a pulped mess of flesh, bone and brain matter, of which there was notably little.

"I noticed the slight imperfections in the floor around its legs." He admitted, gesturing with his wand to the floor, which was laced with minor imperfections that normally resulted from a rushed transmutation "Not only that, but Draco informed me that you used Alchemy to save young Longbottom's life."

"A simple transmutation to manipulate the earth sir." Herwald assured him, his tone polite, though his emerald eyes remained locked on the man's dark pair, refusing to be intimidated "It's one of the basic lessons an Einzbern learns."

"I have little doubt that it is." Snape assured him, his tone calculative "However, I am also fairly certain not even an Einzbern can perform Transmutation without a Transmutation Circle." He held up the knife which was stained with Troll Blood "Certainly not in a combat situation that required the fashioning of a weapon from chaff."

"The times change, Potions Master Snape." Herwald replied cryptically, refusing to rise to the older Magus' bait, as he would not compromise his Arrays for anyone "Who's to say Magic and Alchemy cannot change with them?"

"Who indeed." Snape mused, seeming almost intrigued by the statement, turning the knife over in his hands thoughtfully "A thought occurs to me, Mr. Einzbern, do you know anything about a door on the third floor that has for some reason fused with the wall around it?"

"I was under the impression that the Third Floor corridor was off-limits, sir." Herwald replied keeping his eyes on Snape's "The Headmaster was very clear as to the fate of those who wandered up there this year. I can only assume it was sealed to keep anyone foolhardy enough to ignore the warning out."

"I see…" Snape noted, his features, as always, unreadable, turning the knife over in his hands carefully, before tossing it to the boy with a nod "Very well, Mr. Einzbern, you may return to the Dormitory…" he eyed the knife, which Herwald had caught effortlessly without flinching at the prospect of it cutting him "I would clean that little souvenir if you're planning to keep it, troll blood, while an excellent catalyst, can be quite pungent the older it gets."

"Thank you, sir." Herwald offered, wiping the blade down with a handkerchief, which he resolved to BURN later, making a mental note to craft a sheath for it when he got a free moment, as it would make an interesting souvenir for Shirou, making his way back to the common room, slipping in under the guise of invisibility so that no-one would suspect he'd ever left.

* * *

_Later... _

Needless to say, the Hogwarts rumour mill had soon caught word that Hermione had been out of bounds during the troll incident, and that Neville, Herwald and Ron were involved.

Neither McGonagall, Quirrell nor Snape were likely to answer any questions, and Herwald, naturally, lied through his teeth and simply claimed he'd informed Snape and McGonagall, while Neville backed up his story by admitting he'd assured the round-faced boy he'd do so. Hermione, surprisingly, kept a tight lip when asked, actually lying through her teeth and claiming Snape, McGonagall and Quirrell had come busting in at the last minute, and everyone knew that Ron was the reason the girl had been out of the Common Room at the time, which put him in the bad books of practically every Female student in Gryffindor, INCLUDING his Head of House.

Herwald had no idea what had transpired between the Transfiguration Mistress and the youngest Weasley Brother, but the next morning saw him looking decidedly solemn, barely picking at his food, sending looks Hermione's way that were torn between apologetic and angered, whilst at the same time receiving glares from the rest of the Gryffindor females.

Hermione, naturally, ignored the boy and had nothing to do with him, instead spending breakfast either chatting to Neville, who seemed grateful to have her back, or glancing towards the Slytherin table, Herwald returning her attention with a simple nod or a raised goblet, causing her to flush and avert her eyes.

November arrived, bringing with the traditional cold, the mountains around the school became icy gray, the water in the lake, while not frozen, like chilled steel to the touch. Every morning, when Herwald would go for his run, he found the ground was covered in frost, which while not as bad as the old around Castle Einzbern, still gave him flashbacks of it's horrible, desolate winters.

On a happier note, or so Draco claimed, the Quidditch season had begun, all the students, young and old, chattering excitedly between, even during, classes about the upcoming match on Saturday: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. If Gryffindor won, they would move up into second place in the house championship, whereas if Slytherin won, they'd cement their hold on first place, at least until the NEXT match.

Herwald really didn't see the point, not being a sporting man much, as all of his physical experiences with exercise had involved training in some aspect, whether it be swimming, cross country running, mountain climbing…

However, it seemed that this was one argument that he was simply not going to win, as Draco was determined that he attend the match, citing that EVERYONE would be there, staff included, which meant the library would be shut.

Herwald had agreed, at length, but had admitted to not understanding a thing about Quidditch. Malfoy had countered by offering to lend him a copy of _Quidditch Through the Ages_, insisting he read up on what, from what Herwald gathered between his enamoured retellings, was the sporting equivalent of the second coming of Jesus.

He had to admit, as he read through the signed, limited edition text, that the history of the game was fascinating. He read up on every foul, quirking a brow at the unusual names, and found it highly amusing that all seven hundred had come to pass during a World Cup match in 1473. He had to pity the Seekers, who were usually the smallest and fastest players, and as such tended to suffer the most serious Quidditch accidents.

One thing he didn't like about the sport was that, while people rarely died playing Quidditch, it wasn't uncommon for referees to vanish and turn up months later in the Sahara Desert, that spoke of just how seriously the wizards took their sport, and painted a very nasty image of just how far they were willing to go to see their teams win.

'As if this place needed MORE fuel on the inter-house fire.' He muttered, shaking his head with a sigh, even as he followed the rest of the Slytherins out onto the pitch, pulling his emerald green scarf tightly around his face to ward off the cold, though he wasn't nearly as bundled up as the rest of the year.

* * *

_Quidditch Pitch..._

By eleven o'clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Herwald noted that man of the students were carrying binoculars, and made a note to thank Shirou once again for coaching him through reinforcement, as many students had binoculars, the seats might be raised high in the air, but it was still difficult to see what was going on sometimes.

He used it to spot Hermione and Neville on the Gryffindor side, the two of them sitting together along with Seamus Finnegan, Dean Thomas, and to his surprise Ron Weasley, who he assumed had tagged along because of Seamus and Dean. They were holding up a large bed sheet, a little raggedy at the edges, on which had been painted a large banner with a large Gryffindor Lion rampant. He suspected Hermione might have had a hand in the charm that was causing the paint to flash different colours, and had to give her credit for ingenuity.

The crowds cheers increasing drew his attention back in time to se the two teams marching onto the pitch, the Gryffindors clad in red robes over their Quidditch gear, while the Slytherins were dressed in green. Madam Hooch was refereeing, the hawk-eyed flying instructor standing in the middle of the field waiting for the two teams, her broom in her hand.

She looked on as Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Captain, shook hands with Oliver Wood, his Gryffindor counterpart, though to Herwald's reinforced eyes it looked more like they were trying to crush each other's hands, before instructing the two teams to mount their brooms, doing the same with her own before giving a loud blast on her silver whistle, all fifteen brooms rising high into the air.

_"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor."_ A voice declared, Herwald's head snapping round to see several speakers built into an announcer's booth at the end of the field, where Lee Jordan, a friend and ally of the Weasley Twins, was apparently doing a running commentary of the match, under the strict eye of the ever stern Professor McGonagall _"What an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too."_

"JORDAN!"

_"Sorry, Professor."_ The dreadlocked boy offered, though Herwald could tell by his grin that he wasn't really _"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve. Back to Johnson and-" _He scowled as Flint intercepted the pass _"no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes."_

Herwald frowned, noting from the change in the boy's tone that he clearly wasn't happy with the turn of events. Now admittedly, as a Gryffindor, he would want to show support, but if that were the case, why was he even commentating on a match between his house and their greatest rivals? At the very least a Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw should have been brought in to remain impartial.

_"Flint flying like an eagle up there,"_ Lee continued, sounding annoyed _"he's going to sc-" _he grinned as Oliver Wood blocked the attempted goal _"No! stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle. That's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and."_ He grimaced as the girl was hit from behind _"OUCH, that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger."_

That was another thing Herwald found annoying about Quidditch, it was just so VIOLENT. True, people could get injured playing professional sports, but it was considered illegal to actually ATTACK an opposing player. Quidditch not only permitted this, it actively ENCOURGED it as a means of taking out the opposition. Herwald resolved that he would NEVER, EVER, take part in it.

_"Quaffle taken by the Slytherins."_ Lee muttered, downcast once more _"That's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger..."_ He frowned for a moment _"sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which, nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway."_ He grinned once more as Angelina Johnson snatched the ball_ "Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes. She's really flying, dodges a speeding Bludger, the goal posts are ahead, come on now Angelina, Keeper Bletchley dives-misses! GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"_

The Gryffindor side erupted, their cheers filling the cold air even as the Slytherin broke out in howls and moans and the occasional naughty word.

_"Slytherin in possession,"_ Lee Jordan picked up once the cheering had died down _"Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the…" _he paused, blinking in confusion _"wait a moment, was that the Snitch?"_

* * *

_In the stands..._

Herwald blinked, having almost missed it himself, his emerald eyes narrowing as he followed the little flash of gold that had shot over Pucey's shoulder, the idiot chaser actually dropping the Quaffle to stare after it. The Slytherin Seeker, Terence Higgs had apparently spotted it too, as had his counterpart on the Gryffindor team, the two of them swooping down on the animated golden ball like hawks, their robes spread out behind them like wings.

Neck and neck they hurtled toward the Snitch, all the Chasers seemed to have forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung in mid-air to watch, only to pull up at the last second, it was either that or crash into the stands, the two of them pulling up amidst groans from the fans, the Golden Snitch disappearing from sight once again.

"DAMN! So close…" Draco muttered, the Malfoy heir scowling in distaste at the Slytherin seeker, even as Lee Jordan shared his sentiment, only his glare was directed at the GRYFFINDOR seeker "What the bloody hell was Flint thinking keeping that idiot on the team? If it were me I'd have grabbed it for sure."

"I'm sure, Draco." Herwald chuckled, the Einzbern deciding to humour the boy, knowing how highly the Malfoy heir regarded his self-proclaimed prowess at the 'beautiful game "Maybe you should apply for the position next year?"

"You're damn right I will." Draco muttered, even as Flint, who'd snatched the Quaffle during the confusion, managed to score while Wood was looking the other way, much to the displeasure of the Gryffindors "I won't be riding a Cleansweep either, I'll bring a Nimbus with me or something."

_"Gryffindor in possession."_ Lee muttered, Herwald's enhanced vision allowing him to see that the Gryffindor commentator was clearly not appreciating Flint's cunning strategy as well as the Slytherins were _"Johnson with the Quaffle…" _he grimaced as the female chaser was belted by a Bludger courtesy of the Slytherin beaters,_ "Bloody snakes! Sorry professor," _he offered, McGonagall having looked at him disapprovingly_ "Slytherin in possession, Flint with the Quaffle, he passes to Spinnet, who passes to Bell." _Herwald scowled at the boy's grin as Bell was nailed by a Bludger_ "Hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose-only joking, Professor!" _he insisted at the witches glare, only to slump as Flint caught the ball and hurled it through the hoops on the Gryffindor side _"Slytherins score, ah no…"_

The Slytherins were cheering, and Herwald couldn't help but feel a hint of pride at the distraught look on Jordan's face. If the little tit couldn't remain impartial then he didn't deserve his position as commentator. He idly wondered how the boy got the position in the first place, though was forced out of these thoughts as the two seekers once again shot after the snitch, the entire audience, players included, freezing once again to watch the desperate race, the sole exceptions being Herwald and Marcus Flint, the former looking on as the latter took advantage of the situation and seized the Quaffle, scoring five times without anyone else noticing. Not even fellow Captain Oliver Wood, who was serving as Goalie for Gryffindor.

"Come on Higgs." Draco muttered, Herwald looking up to see the Malfoy heir literally hanging on the edge of his seat, his eyes locked intently on the little golden ball that was flying desperately to avoid it's pursuers "Move you bloody useless-!"

Suddenly Higgs shot straight up, the Slytherin's letting out a whoop of elation even as the Gryffindors moaned in dismay, for the grinning Seeker had indeed captured the elusive snitch, Herwald's enhanced vision allowing him to see the little golden ball's wings flapping desperately between his fingers.

_"Aw dammit…" _Lee Jordan moaned, his voice laced with depression _"Higgs' got the snitch, Slytherin wins…" _he blinked in confusion _"Two hundred and Ten points to Twenty? Here that can't be right…!"_

* * *

_After the Match..._

"That'll teach Wood to keep his head in the game." Draco sneered, looking on as the Gryffindor Keeper landed to complain, only for Madam Hooch to declare that YES, he HAD let in Six Goals during the match, the fact he was only paying attention to the First one was hardly Flint's fault, the Slytherin team marching off the pitch to the cheers of their House, while the Gryffindors trudged back in defeat "Care to join us for the celebration, Herwald?"

"You go on ahead." Herwald insisted, catching sight of Hermione and Neville's downcast faces on the Gryffindor side, the group having at some point been joined by Hagrid, the groundskeeper "I'll catch up."

Draco shrugged, knowing better than to press the issue or ask where the Einzbern was going. The two had reached an understanding that, should Herwald want to be alone, he would be left alone until he said or did otherwise. Promising to save the boy some butter beer, he marched off with Crabbe and Goyle, who Herwald nodded to in passing, before making his way down the stands, weaving through the throng of bodies until he reached the Gryffindor side, only to happen across a sullen faced Ron, Seamus and Dean.

"What do YOU want, Potter?" the redhead demanded, glaring at him accusingly "Come to brag have you? Bet you feel proud of that cheating stunt Flint pulled."

"I would hardly call Captain Flint's taking advantage of Captain Wood's distraction 'cheating' Herr Weasley." He countered, his tone cold as he glanced at the boy "There's no rule in Quidditch that says just because everyone in the stadium is too busy following the snitch that it's illegal to score a goal."

Ron turned scarlet, his face a mask of embarrassment and anger, only for Herwald to turn, seemingly ignoring him, though actually watching him out the corner of his eye as he addressed Dean and Seamus "I actually came to speak with Hermione and Neville, I noticed them in the stands with you earlier."

"I think they went off with Hagrid the Groundskeeper." Dean admitted, earning a glare from Ron as he pointed towards a small hut at the end of the grounds "His cottage is that way."

"Don't go telling him anything!" Ron snapped, glaring at the stunned boy before rounding on Herwald, his wand put and aimed at his face "And you! Stay the hell away from Hagrid! He's had enough trouble from people like you!"

"Oh? So he's routinely bothered by well cultured, groomed, polite individuals that come knocking on his door asking to speak with mutual acquaintances?" Herwald asked, covering his annoyance by smiling coldly at the redhead "How very odd, I'd have thought he'd be bothered by stuck up little bigots that believe they know what's best for the world and are willing to curse people to get what they want."

"Why you-!" Ron snarled, bringing his wand up, only for Herwald to lash out with his foot, sending the wand flying into the air, the Einzbern following it up by grabbing the startled redhead's arm, tossing him over his shoulder and onto his back, snatching the redhead's wand out of the air before kneeling on his chest, aiming the younger Weasleys own wand at his face.

The entire exchange had taken less than five seconds.

"There is an old saying, Herr Weasley…" Herwald muttered, his voice low and cold, eyes like frozen gems as they bored into the terrified redhead's own "It goes: The only ones who should kill are those who are prepared to BE killed." He narrowed his eyes, levelling the redhead's own wand a his throat "If I were an enemy, Herr Weasley, you'd be DEAD by now."

Ron let out a weak, choking noise that was indecipherable, his face pale beneath his freckles, his eyes wide with terror as he peered into those merciless emerald orbs.

"I will warn you only once." Herwald stated coldly, leaning down until they were mere inches apart "Do not, under any circumstance, point a wand at me again. The next time you attempt to do so, I'll make you EAT it."

So saying he got off the redhead, who had at some point pissed himself in fear, the Einzbern stepping around the spreading patch of steaming yellow, tossing the stolen wand onto its owners chest, nodding in parting to Sean and Dean, before turning around and marching off in the direction of Hagrid's hut.

"Bloody hell…" Dean muttered, unable to tear his eyes off the back of the Boy-Who-Just-Kicked-Ass, watching the Slytherin youth march off "That was bloody awesome. Like one of those old Jackie Chan movies."

"Yeah…" Seamus muttered, despite the fact he had no idea who the hell his dorm mate was talking about, the taller boy tearing his eyes away from the retreating, emerald clad figure to glance down at Ron in concern "You alright Ron?"

The younger Weasley said nothing, just continued to lie there, looking after the receding form of the boy he'd been expecting to become fast friends with, only for him to betray them all by becoming a Slytherin. "I'd stay clear from him if I were you Ron." Dean muttered, looking torn between concern and awe as he glanced between his friend and the Slytherin boy "Seriously, it isn't worth the bruises."

"Let's just go…" Ron muttered, pulling himself to his feet with a grunt, picking up his wand, looking at it contemplatively, before scowling and marching back to the castle, flinching slightly as the cool air caused his wet trousers to chafe.

* * *

_Hagid's Hut..._

Muttering under his breath about redheaded bigots, mentally kicking himself for provoking the redhead as he had, Herwald made his way towards the modest little hut which had been set aside for the groundskeeper at the edge of the forbidden forest. A crossbow and a pair of galoshes were outside the front door, and Herwald swore he saw a vegetable garden round the back. When he knocked there was a frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks that actually made him jump.

"Back, Fang, back!" he heard Hagrid bark out, the groundskeeper's big, hairy face appearing in the crack as he pulled the door open "Hang on a minute, Back Fang!"

Herwald waited patiently for Hagrid to get control of what appeared to be an enormous black boarhound, dragging the beast back by the collar. He managed it, barely, and turned t face his guest, his little beetle eyes widening in surprise, only to narrow suddenly.

"Oh…it's you." He muttered, and Herwald was surprised to detect a note of disappointment in the half-giant's tone "What do you want?"

"Well I WAS going to ask if I could come in." Herwald muttered, narrowing his eyes at the bearded man accusingly "However, since it's quite apparent you don't want me here, could I speak with Neville and Hermione?"

"Harry?" Neville called out, the Round-faced Boy's face appearing around Hagrid's massive frame alongside Hermione, his eyes wide with surprise "What are you doing here?"

"I thought I'd come speak with you after the match." Herwald admitted, though his eyes never left Hagrid's bearded face "Thought we'd have tea together, but since it's blatantly obvious I'm not wanted..."

"Oh let him in Hagrid." Hermione insisted, looking up at the half giant pleadingly, and a little crossly at the normally accepting half-giant's change of attitude "He's a friend of ours; he saved Neville from falling off his broom and ME from the troll."

Hagrid blinked, looking at the annoyed Einzbern in surprise, having clearly not heard such news from the rest of the faculty, before grudgingly stepping aside to let him in, shutting the door behind him to ward off the chill.

There was only one room in the hut, hams and pheasants hung from the ceiling and a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire. In the corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it, and in the centre was an equally massive table, at which Hermione and Neville sat.

"Make yerself at home I suppose…" Hagrid mumbled, eyeing the Einzbern youth uncertainly, relasing his hold on the boarhound, Fang, who bounded straight at the Einzbern, rearing up on his hind legs and promptly licking his ears. "Well if Fang likes you I guess you can't be all bad." The groundskeeper muttered, and it seemed as if a hint of hope appeared in his eyes as he watched his pet wash the boy-who-lived "You take sugar in your tea?"

"No, danke." Herwald countered, missing the look of confusion on the half-giant's face even as he scratched behind Fang's ears, the boarhound's tail thumping energetically in pleasure as the Einzbern smiled at him encouragingly "Good boy, good boy."

"You certainly have a way with dogs, Harry." Hermione noted, te bushy haired Gryffindor girl looking on with interest as the normally reserved lytherin boy seemed to open up to Hagrid's deceptively fierce looking canine.

"I like dogs." Herwald admitted, crouching down to rub Fang's tummy, the massive hound's leg kicking as the Einzbern youth found his tender spots "My adoptive family bred Schäferhunds..." he paused at their looks of confusion "Sorry, German Shepherds, and Doberman Pinschers. One of my chores growing up was to clean out the pens."

"I heard about Dobermans…" Hermione noted, the brunette looking at her friend in concern even as Neville marvelled at how easily the boy had tamed Hagrid's hound "Aren't they supposed to be attack dogs or something?"

"They're actually very loyal and intelligent actually." Herwald corrected patiently "While it's true that, traditionally, they've been used as guard and police dogs, they're also a very common breed of pet, even outside of Germany."

"Just goes to sow you can't judge a book by its cover I suppose." Hagrid chuckled, the half-giant smiling fondly as he shook his massive, bearded head "Just like my fluffy, fierce as anything until you play him a little music."

"Fluffy?" Hermione wondered, blinking at the groundskeeper in confusion "Do you have another dog here Hagrid?"

"Yeah, bought him off a Greek Chappie last year." Hagrid admitted, pouring out the tea into a chipped mug and setting it aside for Herwald alongside a plate of biscuits "He's not here now though, I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the…"

He trailed off, but the damage was done, Herwald and Neville sharing a look, while Hermione pressed the man for more information.

"Now, don't ask me anymore, that's top secret, that is." Hagrid muttered gruffly, only to frown when the girl persisted "Now, listen to me, all three of yeh, yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel-!"

Herwald's widened, the world around him, the sounds, the sights, even the smells fading into the distance as the name Hagrid unwittingly uttered echoed around his brain.

It was a name that any alchemist worth his salt would know, the name of the greatest master of their craft, a man that even Jubstacheit von Einzbern revered as the Greatest Alchemis in the History of Magic. A man whose crown creation, the stunned boy realized, was what the Cerberus 'Fluffy' had to be guarding.

The Philosopher's Stone was at Hogwarts, and someone was trying to steal it.

* * *

Spy: Hoho...things are looking interesting...

Kyugan: I was wondering how to get the ball rolling, and fortunately Hagrid, the lovable brute, served as the perfect means to an end.

Medic: He seemed rather...distant of ze boy.

Kyugan: That's because Hagrid never got the chance to meet Harry in person. The reason he was sent out to fetch him was because Herwald hadn't received his letter, so Hagrid was sent to see what the hell was going on. After that, he saw the boy sorted into Slytherin, a house he, as a Gryffindor, would have been at odds with even as a boy. Getting falsely expelled by one couldn't have done him any favours either.

Engineer: Still, that was some mighty fine chop-suey stuff he did right there.

Kyugan: Kung-fu, and yes, because Magi, unlike wizards, know the benefit of martial arts. Look at the Tohsaka familly, Apparentlythey combine their Jewelcraft magic with Kempo to make them even more formidable on the battlefield. I don't know about the Einzberns, but Irisviel was pretty powerful as a magus, and could fend for herself.

And before anyone rants about the fight between Herwald and Ron, no this is NOT the be all and end all of their relationship (NO YAOI!) Ron just can't seem to accept that Herwald is a Slytherin, who he's spent his entire life believing are evil incarnate. Add to this the stress and depression from Gryffindors sound defeat (The scores are about the same, I just switched who the extra 150 went to at the end) and Herwald's baiting insults, and he snapped. Herwald was as much to blame for that as Ron was, and he knows that, though neither will admit it till later.

Spy: Doctor Phill vould have a field day with zem. And speaking of Doctors, Medic, if you would?

Medic: Ja.

Frau: Miss, short for Fraulein.

Herr: Mr.

Danke: Thank you.

Schäferhunds: Alsatians, German Shepherds.

Kyugan: More to come! Kudos to those who get the Code Geass reference.


	11. Chapter 10: All I Want For Christmas

Kyugan: Back on track, and the last update for a while.

Spy: Things are certainly heating up nes-pas?

Piro: Mmmhmhmhmm!

Medic: Nein, mein friend, he wasn't insulting you.

Kyugan: Why are you here anyway, Prio?

Piro: Mphy Mpheck! *Turns his flamethrower on Medic, who screams, his form replaced with the Blue Spy*

Bspy: AAAAAUGH!

Heavy: *Appearing out of nowhere, does Quick Draw taunt* POW! *Sends Blue Spy Flying with his invisible Quick Draw of doom* HA! You are dead! Not big surprise!

Kyugan: JEEZUS! *Turns to Spy as Piro does his victory dance* how'd you know?

Spy: Simple, Medic would NEVER 'ave made ze mistakes HE did with 'is native language.

Kyugan: Mistakes? *looks at reviewers list* Ah...I see. Damn you're sharp.

Spy: But of course. Now, in lieu of our esteemd colleague, who it turns out is respawning as we speak, allow me to correct my...shoddily dressed contemporary's mistakes.

Lion Heart: Löwenherz.

Missgeburten: Plural for Missgeburt, which means the same thing as before, aka deformed, malformed.

Kyugan: According to this there are other mistakes in earlier chapters too...Damn German is hard!

Spy: I know, but seeing as it is used only in passing, I am certain you can be forgiven.

Kyugan: Maybe. In any case, a special thanks to Saiorse() for pointing out my mistakes. You ever get registered, let me know and I'll gladly ask for your expert advice, glad to have an actual, Native German Speaking reviewer taking enough interest in my work to offer to help out, those online translators just don't measure up.

In any case, the Wheel of Fate is Turning, let us see what the Shift in the Continuum has wrought...

* * *

All I Want For Christmas...

Herwald would become a regular guest at Hagrid's hut most evenings, either by invitation or by joining Neville and Hermione during one of their trips. There was always a sense of unease between them, the groundskeeper clearly had problems with Slytherins, having been on the receiving end of several pranks over the years, but Herwald's treatment of Fang, and Fang's adoration of the boy, clearly worked to bridge the gap.

Hagrid had seemingly learned his lesson in regards to his loose tongue, and so would talk about anything BUT Fluffy, Hogwarts business, and Nicholas Flamel, no matter how hard Hermione and Neville pressed him for answers. He seemed grateful that Herwald, who he persisted in calling Harry, to the boy's resignation, didn't join in with their probing, though to be fair, it wasn't as if he NEEDED to dig for information, as he'd already pieced together everything he needed to know.

Any alchemist worth his salt, and even those not worth a damn, knew the names Nicholas Flamel and his wife Perenelle. Born in the 1300's, they lived a humble life as scribers and manuscript sellers, though Flamel's real talent lay in the field of Alchemy, which even back then was a complex branch of magic in the on-going search for a means to reach Akasha.

At some unspecified point in their lives, Nicholas' research bore fruit, the man crafting what would become known as the pinnacle of alchemic achievement to date, a catalyst that served not only as an alchemical amplifier, but which allowed for the dismissal of the law of equivalent exchange: The Philosopher's stone.

Any hack Alchemist with the right resources could make gold, all earthen metals were basically the same save for the position of their atoms, but only the Philosopher stone could create gold from something OTHER than metal, such as wood, water, or air. But the greatest asset of the stone was that it could be used to create the Elixir of Life, a miraculous draught that was said to bestow eternal life to those who consumed it.

However, whether this was true or not was debatable, as the Flamel's had faked their deaths and fled, taking the stone and all their research notes with them. They would pop up, occasionally, over the centuries, but never stayed in one place too long.

Which begged the question: What in the name of Solomon's Harem was the Stone doing in HOGWARTS of all places? For that matter, what had it been doing in Gringotts vault seven hundred and Thirteen? Why had Flamel entrusted something so personal, the culmination of his life's research, to Dumbledore, a man he'd kicked out of his apprenticeship, though admittedly on better terms than Grandfather Jubstacheit?

All these questions continued to plague Herwald all the way through December, which had covered Hogwarts in several feet of snow, freezing the lake solid. It had gotten so bad that the few owls that managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver mail had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again, which seriously impeded the flow of mail to and from the castle.

Everyone seemed to be looking forward to the start of the holiday season, most of them making plans to visit friends and family alike, while the few that opted to stay tried to think of things to do. Herwald, despite his desire to be with his family for the holidays, opted to stay behind. While he knew he was certain to catch a lot of flak from Illyasviel upon his return in the Summer, he could not, in good faith, leave the stone unprotected, he certainly didn't consider whatever Dumbledore had cooked up as a defence, and he had little doubt that the thief would make another attempt on the Stone once the majority of the school was empty, less chance of being caught after all.

He was making his way down the corridor, having just come from potions class, when he happened across a large fir tree blocking the corridor ahead. He blinked, stunned for a moment, before espying the two enormous feet sticking out at the bottom, clad in familiar moleskin boots "Is that you, Hagrid?"

"'lo there, Harry." The groundskeeper greeted from behind the tree, several figures, all Gryffindors, peering around it to look at him "Just come from class?"

"Potions Master Snape held me back a bit to discuss my potion." He admitted, only to pause a he caught the look on Neville's face "Something wrong?"

"Malfoy insulted Ron's family." Hermione supplied, looking annoyed, though whether it was at Draco or Ron it was hard to tell "Ron attacked him, of course, just as Professor Snape came round the corner. He took Five points from Gryffindor and then walked off."

"Snape's a bit of a hardball, but he's a good man." Hagrid muttered "Dumbledore wouldn't trust him otherwise."

'I'd question the judgement of a man that thought it a good idea to bring a Cerberus into a school filled with inquisitive schoolchildren.' Herwald muttered, even as he turned to the others "So, any plans for the evening?"

"Why don't yeh come with me?" Hagrid asked carefully "I'm just bringing in this here tree, the' last one needed for the Great Hall. C'mon and have a look."

Seeing no reason to refuse, Herwald joined his Gryffindor friends as they followed Hagrid and his tree off to the Great Hall, where Professors McGonagall and Flitwick were busy with the Christmas decorations. festoons of holly and mistletoe lining the walls, and no less than twelve towering Christmas trees stood around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundreds of candles. "How many days you got left until yer holidays?" Hagrid asked pleasantly, setting the last tree in the far corner under the instruction of McGonagall.

"Just one." Hermione admitted, smiling at the man, before turning to Herwald with a hopefl expression on her face "Which reminds me, are you sure you won't join Neville and me in the Library? It'd be a big help and we'd cover more ground."

"Hermione…" Herwald sighed, the girl having insisted he use her first name "We've been over this, I've no intention of looking for information on Nicholas Flamel."

Ever since the Half-Giant had let slip that whatever Fluffy the Cerberus was guarding had something to do with the Alchemist, Hermione had been doing everything she could to try and find ANYTHING about the man. "You what?" Hagrid yelped, his beetle black eyes wide with shock as he gaped at the girl through his beard "Listen here Hermione, I've told yeh to drop it. It's nothin' to you what that dog's guardin'."

"We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that's all." Hermione insisted, and Herwald had the feeling she was telling the truth, to an extent. It WAS pure interest that was fuelling her studies into the Legendary Alchemist, the fact whatever he'd entrusted to Dumbledore may be at risk was secondary.

"Unless you'd like to tell us and save us the trouble?" Neville asked hopefully, looking up at the groundskeeper pleadingly "We must've been through hundreds of books already and we can't find him anywhere…"

"I'm sayin' nothin', Hagrid muttered flatly, though Herwald could've sworn for a moment his gruff visage cracked in the face of Neville's puppy-dog-eyes. Unsurprising really, as they WERE actually a minor form of 'Magic Eyes' that were still under debate amongst the Magus Council, who were refusing to acknowledge an ability even Mundanes could perform.

* * *

_Later..._

In the end, Herwald agreed to tag along with the Gryffindor duo, but only in order to help Neville with his Potions assignment while Hermione, who like him had already finished hers, buried herself in as many books as she could in her endeavour to uncover Flamel's identity.

Herwald half considered admitting he already KNEW who the man was, and just what Dumbledore had apparently been entrusted with, but it was just so amusing to watch the girl tear through so many books, looking in all the wrong places.

After all, being born in the 1300's, you wouldn't expect The Alchemist to be listed under _Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century_, or _Notable Magical Names of Our Time_, just as the Philosopher's Stone wouldn't be listed under _Important Modern Magical Discoveries_ or _A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry_.

And then, of course, there was the sheer size of the library; tens of thousands of books; thousands of shelves; hundreds of narrow rows. It was a true bibliophile's paradise, though it didn't hold a candle to the Einzbern library in regards to size or content, nor did it come CLOSE to the great Library of the Clock Tower, the greatest depository of Magical Information in Europe. However, for overzealous students, those willing to risk the eternal scrutiny of the Head Librarian Madam Pince, it was a wealth of information, though admittedly one that required a permission slip before you could attempt to examine the deeper recesses of the Restricted Section.

Hermione took out a list of subjects and titles she had decided to search while Herwald coached Neville through his essay, not helping as such, but pointing out little errors he'd made, while recommending certain texts that might help the Gryffindor avoid incurring the wrath of Professor Snape, as he seemed quite accomplished at doing. Eventually, however, Madam Pince swept by to alert them that it was closing time, driving them out of the Library with her feather-duster, Hermione muttering under her breath at having reached another dead end.

"This would go so much easier if you'd just help out Herwald." She insisted, looking imploringly at the Slytherin boy "Aren't you curious about what Fluffy's guarding?"

"Not as such, no." Herwald admitted honestly, it was hard to be curious about something you already KNEW after all. What he was curious about was what the Stone was doing here in the FIRST place, he highly doubted Dumbledore could protect it half as well as the Flamels could. They'd done so for six centuries after all.

"Well could you at least help Neville while I'm away?" Hermione asked imploringly "And send me an owl if you find anything. I mean I'm hardly likely to find anything about Flamel in the Muggle World."

'You'd be surprised…' Herwald chuckled, his lip quirking as he resisted the urge to smile at just how WRONG the poor girl was. After all, Flamel was one of the few Magi whose fame had grown to the extent even Mundanes told tales of him. Another prime example was Merlin, supposed founder of the British Wizarding world, which certainly explained it's idiosyncrasies if half the stories Saber recounted about her greatest advisor were true.

After all, a Magus that had once, as a prank, temporarily grafted a fully working penis onto a woman, even one posing as a man, was a Magus with a decidedly obtuse sense of humour.

* * *

_Christmas time... _

The holidays came round, and Herwald was quite pleased to discover he had the Slytherin common room almost entirely to himself, the rest of the dorm, coming from noble families, having returned to their homes to be with said relatives.

Draco had, of course, offered an invitation to his own home, only to be politely refused, Herwald stating he had some work to be done that required contact with a member of staff, which wasn't technically a lie, as he highly doubted a STUDENT could get past whatever protections Dumbledore had in place around the Stone.

The Weasleys had also opted to stay behind for Christmas, Neville informing him that their parents had gone to visit one of the elder sons, Charlie, in Romania, where the former Chaser worked on a Dragon Preserve.

Ron, who had apparently not taken Herwald's warning to heart, kept sending him glares whenever they laid eyes on one another, though wisely refrained from moving his hand towards wherever he stashed his wand. Herald, naturally, ignored the boy, save for the occasional passing nod, which was never returned. The Weasley TWINS, on the other hand, were not so easy to ignore, and as the sole remaining Slytherin in the castle, it seemed they'd deemed him the target for whatever pranks their devious minds might come up with.

The pranks were, Herwald was forced to admit, rather ingenious in their simplicity, whether it involved charming snowballs to chase after him, or setting up a dung bomb trap in a hallway he was expected to traverse. Had Herwald not already had experience with more SERIOUS attempts at sabotage, they may have stood a chance, as it were, his continued persistence in avoiding their pranks only seemed to entice the brothers to do more, and Herwald, despite himself, found himself looking forward to what they'd attempt next.

Surprisingly, the Weasley he had the most contact with was their Elder brother and Gryffindor Prefect, Percy, who he would periodically meet with during meals for a game of Wizard Chess, which was played exactly the same as the mundane version, save the pieces were alive, and decidedly overzealous in their desire to smite their enemies. The elder Weasley was rather good, though he claimed Ron was better, but Herwald had the experience of being a Master in a Grail War on his side, which made coming up with surprising strategies on the fly a relative breeze.

Percy, naturally, seemed to enjoy the challenges, and would often invite the boy to sit at the prefect's table, much to the ire of his youngest brother and the amusement of the twins, who now had another excuse to target the elder boy. After all, it wasn't THEIR fault that their elder brother had sat on the dung bombs intended for Herwald, now was it?

Christmas Morn soon came round, Herwald rousing himself for his early morning run, only to find a small pile of packages at the foot of his bed. The top parcel, wrapped in thick brown paper was from Hagrid, and contained a roughly cut wooden flute, which the Groundskeeper had obviously whittled it himself.

'I wonder if he liked the Mead I sent him?' the boy wondered, honestly touched by the Groundskeeper's gift, as it must have taken him hours to craft the flute, especially considering how big the man's hands were. He felt rather justified in sending him a barrel of Einzbern's finest Mead, even if it HAD cost almost forty Galleons to procure it through Gringotts.

The whistle sounded rather like an owl when played, but Herwald figured it would make an amusing means of passing the time, and so endeavoured to find some music while he was here. The second Parcel was, surprisingly, from Rin, who'd found several books on Alchemy in her father's private collection, apparently taken from a Master in the previous war. She's sent one of them as a gift, along with what appeared to be a key, stating he was free to come and read the others whenever he wished, as they were no use to her.

This gift, naturally, floored the boy, as Magi guarded their workshop jealously, sometimes not even letting their children near it, keeping them in the dark of their abilities until they began showing signs of magic. For Rin, who was a Tsunedere through and through according to Shirou, to gift her key to the boy, was a more intimate act than inviting him into her room.

'Were she not involved with Shirou I'd be very worried for my chastity.' The youth chuckled, having seen the state Shirou was often left in after one of his 'sessions' with the elder Tohsaka sister, battered, drained, but with a shit-eating grin etched across his face, while Rin seemed to glow in that confident manner of a woman that got what she wanted and was getting it regularly.

The second gift was from Sakura, who'd knitted him a sweater in a deep emerald green that matched his eyes, though she'd thoughtfully added a golden lightning bolt across the front. She'd also attached a note thanking him for the Wizarding cookbook he'd sent through, as she'd been looking for new recipes with which to tempt Shirou with.

'As if she NEEDS anything…' Herwald chuckled, shaking his head in bemusement at the younger Tohsaka's infatuation with his step-brother, an infatuation that had resulted in her sharing him with her sister in one of the most amusing ways of solving sibling rivalry ever.

Shirou had sent him a letter, thanking him for the dagger he'd used to kill the troll, as well as the warning on the sharpness of the blade, which brought him no end of amusement. He'd also passed along some manga for the boy to read, including the latest volume the boy had gotten hooked on back home.

Illyasviel had sent a picture of herself, all dressed up in a winter Kimono along with Shirou, Rin and Sakura. Rider, Leysritt and Sella had retained their normal clothes. Her letter had been equally amusing and unsettling, for while she'd promised to give him a stern talking to for abandoning her for the holidays, she'd also thanked him empathetically for the music box he'd bought for her.

Rider had sent him a letter thanking him for the books he'd sent over, along with a bottle of clear liquid which Herwald half suspected was venom from her own fangs, judging by her warning to not let it come in contact with his skin. He swiftly reinforced the glass to ensure it didn't break, making a note to find a proper container for it later.

Taiga, at his request, had sent him several educational texts that were standard for eleven-year-olds in Japan, Herwald not wanting to miss out on a NORMAL education just because Hogwarts didn't think to include G.C.S.E's or their international equivalent into their curriculum. Not that Taiga knew this of course, she simply thought the boy wanted to challenge himself more, and so heartily agreed to supply him with all the material he'd need, whilst also passing on his exams to the school for grading, though she disapproved of his having to lie about being home taught.

It was a necessary lie, as he couldn't very well explain to her he was attending a MAGICAL school. It hurt to have to lie to the older woman, but as a mundane, that was what they needed to do.

Neville and Hermione had sent him sweets, the former thanking him for the Alchemy textbook he'd sent him, theoretical of course, while the latter had seemed a little unnerved by the Wizarding Culture book she'd received, and Herwald had little doubt that, had he not written a letter EXPLAINING the reasons behind the gift, she wouldn't have sent him anything.

There were several 'dos' and 'don'ts' in Wizarding society which everyone was expected to know regardless of station, it was one of the reasons Muggle-born were ostracised so much, by giving Hermione the book, he hoped to arm her against that prejudice, and so reduce the openings for them to attack her.

'Knowing my luck she'll probably bean me over the head with it the moment she gets back.' Herwald snorted, shaking his head in bemusement at the girl's temper, before turning his attention to the last parcel, which came with no name, and was so light for a moment he suspected it was empty, only for his eyes to widen as something fluid and silvery gray went slithered out as he unwrapped it, laying across the bed sheets in gleaming folds.

'An invisibility cloak?' He breathed, so stunned by the sight of the silvery cloth before him that he couldn't bring himself to speak, running his finger hesitantly over the material, which felt strangely fluid to the touch, as if water had been woven into material 'Who…how…'

His surprise was understandable, as invisibility cloaks were a rarity that were jealously hoarded by their possessors. Only old, ancient families possessed the resources to own at least one, and they were treated as heirlooms, passed down from one heir to the next, Herwald knew this because Jubstacheit supposedly had one locked away somewhere.

They certainly weren't something that were handed down as Christmas presents to perfect strangers, even less so without some form of explanation. He scanned the remains of the package for a letter, a name, only to pause as he espied something tucked into the folds of the cloak, a small letter written in narrow, loopy writing he had never seen before.

_'Your father left this in my possession before he died.'_ He read, quirking a brow at the mention of James Potter, as Kiritsugu had certainly never possessed an invisibility cloak, or if he had, it had been lost or retrieved by the Einzberns_ 'It is time it was returned to you. Use it well. A Very Merry Christmas to you.'_

"Scheiße…" Herwald muttered, scowling at the lack of a signature, not that he needed it, as he had a fairly certain idea just WHO had sent the cloak "Merry Christmas indeed, Grandfather was right, he really is a manipulative bastard…"

Herwald hadn't forgotten the Sorting hat's statement earlier that year, how the Headmaster apparently had some sort of plan for him. He hadn't deluded himself into believing those plans had been thwarted by his being sorted into Slytherin instead of Gryffindor, and it seemed the old man had FINALLY decided to make a move.

'Knowing him there's probably a compulsion on this cloak to entice me to wear it.' Herwald muttered, once again thankful for the Ring of Kay's protection from mental attacks as he picked it up 'I doubt I'll ever need it, but might as well let Rin have a look at it…if anything it'll make good wedding present.'

Chuckling at the idea of Shirou having to pick one bride, a prospect that sent a shiver of fear down the boy's spine at the prospective damage, he instead packed the gifts away in his trunk, pulling on Sakura's sweater before making his way out of the dungeons to the grand hall for breakfast.

* * *

_Later..._

While the Einzberns were noted for their Christmas parties, Herwald had never had the pleasure of attending one, save as an attendant, helping the homunculi dish out the food, drink and the resulting clean up. As such, he had to admit that, as his first proper taste of Christmas, the Hogwarts feast was quite the experience.

The house elves had outdone themselves, preparing a hundred fat, roast turkeys; mountains of roast and boiled potatoes; platters of chipolatas; tureens of buttered peas, silver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce. Stacks of wizard crackers were placed every few feet along the tables, which unlike their mundane brethren, went off with a blast like a cannon and engulfed the revellers in clouds of blue smoke.

Fred Weasley had offered to pull one with him, as he was 'all on his lonesome', letting out a whoop as they fell flat on their backs from the noise, the redhead claiming the Rear admiral's hat that emerged while several live white mice raced off to freedom. Up at the High Table, Dumbledore had swapped his pointed wizard's hat for a flowered bonnet, and was chuckling merrily at a joke Professor Flitwick had just read him.

Flaming Christmas puddings followed the turkey, Percy nearly breaking his teeth on a silver sickle embedded in his slice, while Hagrid, whom Herwald noted was clearly enjoying his present of Einzbern Mead, kissed Professor McGonagall on the cheek, the normally stern witch actually blushing and giggling like a schoolgirl, much to the annoyance of Professor Snape, who nodded his head and raised his wine glass briefly in Herwald's direction, clearly appreciative for the bottle of Wine the boy had sent him.

Herwald and Neville would later get roped into a furious snowball fight with the Weasley brothers that afternoon, though it could hardly be considered a fight after he used his alchemy to create a snow fort, forcing the redhead's to duck as he and Neville rained frosty vengeance down on them from the safety of their walls. While Ron had taken this badly, insisting they were cheating, the Twins had naturally taken their defeat in stride, vowing mocking vengeance on the pair they jokingly bestowed the title of 'The Frost Lords of Hogwarts' upon, before they all retreated to their respective common rooms for the evening.

It was, Herwald reflected, the best Christmas day he'd ever had, the only thing that could have made it even better was if he'd been able to share it with his family, making a mental note to bring back some Wizarding crackers with him when he went home at the end of the year.

With this promise in his heart, he tucked his treasures and gifts into his trunk, sealed it with the personal spell Rin had taught him, before tucking himself into bed with a smile.

* * *

_Later that night..._

Albus Dumbledore frowned, the supreme Mugwump and Headmaster of Hogwarts resisting the urge to shiver from the cold that slipped through his personal heating charms as he sat on desk near the back, gazing patiently at the door to the deserted classroom, waiting for Harry Potter to come and discover the Mirror of Erised.

The old man had nearly had a heart attack when the boy had been sorted into Slytherin, just what had the boy's relatives done to corrupt the son of James and Lily Potter so? He'd tried to get a glimpse but the boys mind was protected by POWERFUL wards, wards that no first year should possess by any means.

His attempts at conversation with the boy's relatives had proven equally distressing, as they'd made it clear that they had never received the boy, and would have never agreed to take him in even if they had. It had turned out that the blood wards, failing to detect their intended target, had remained in effect by attaching themselves to Petunia's overbearing love for her spoiled son Dudley. He cursed himself for ignoring Arabella Figg's concerns at never seeing the boy out of the house, simply assuming from the stability of the wards that the Dursleys had opted to keep the boy home schooled to avoid drawing attention to their 'Freakish' nephew.

His fears were alleviated, somewhat, when he learned of the boy's friendship with Neville Longbottom and Hermione Granger, despite the mutual hostility between their respective houses, and had been PARTICULARLY relieved when he learned of how the boy had saved the two Gryffindors, the latter from a TROLL of all things.

What unnerved him was the means by which the boy had done so. Alchemy was a very abstract and complex school of magic, much like potions making, and there were few magical families proficient in the art to teach it to their children. For Harry to have used Transmutation, one of the basic, and at the same time most complex of Alchemical skills, was worrying, the fact he could apparently do so WITHOUT the need for a transmutation circle was unsettling enough to inspire the need to speak with the boy.

And so, despite his uncertainty, he'd taken a gamble and gone through with his vow to pass down James Potter's invisibility cloak to his son, though despite Herwald's suspicions, he hadn't, in fact, placed a compulsion on the cloak, instead relying on the boy to have inherrited his father's sense of adventure to test it out, while Dumbledore waited in the room he'd set the mirror up in, where he would watch the boy's reaction whilst under the cover of his personal invisibility charms.

But the boy never showed up, and the Supreme Mugwump spent the entire night sitting on a desk in the cold for nothing, only giving up after the sun began to rise on the horizon, locking the door with a spell, before heading off to bed to grab a few hours of sleep before he was forced to attend to whatever nonsense Cornelius Fudge intended to pester himself with, resolving to find SOME excuse to speak with the boy-who-lived before the holiday was over.

After all, as much as he wished there was another way, Harry had a destiny to fulfil, and Dumbledore would be DAMNED if he allowed himself to fail another one of his students the same way he'd failed to help Hagrid, Myrtle, and Tom Riddle, he'd see himself HANGED first.

'Though the fact he isn't a trouble maker is relieving in itself...' he admitted, a great weight lifting from his shoulders as he burrowed under the covers, his silver beard resting over the blankets and his new woollen socks peeking out from the edge comically 'I don't think Severus could handle the second coming of the Mauraders.'

* * *

Spy: Huh...so ze old man isn't trying to manipulate the boy.

Kyugan: I told you, he DOES care for Harry, hell he cared for MALFOY even when the little prick had him at wand-point.

Medic: He's a credit to his creed, but Gott DAMN if his taste in socks isn't deplorable.

Kyugan: Nobody's perfect, and this is the last update for a while. I don't know whether or not Neville stayed behind or not, but he did here and I use the excuse of Author's lib.


	12. Chapter 11: Norbert

Kyugan: Ah, I love the smell of updates after lunch.

Spy: It certainly has bee a while, non?

Kyugan: Any idea where your counterpart stashed Doc yet?

Spy: Heavy's tearing the place apart looking for him, we've searched everywhere, even the infirmary.

Kyugan: did you check the morgue?

Spy: Oui, nothing.

Kyugan: Ah well, I'm sure he'll show up. In any case, the Wheel of Fate is Turning, let us see what the Shift in the Continuum has wrought...

* * *

Norbert.

Dumbledore seemed to be popping up a lot more frequently over the holidays, confirming Herwald's suspicions that the old man was behind the invisibility cloak, and so had some hidden agenda which he'd intended to drag Herwald into. Naturally, he couldn't call the old man out on this, Powerful Magus aside, the man was the Headmaster of Hogwarts, and as such had the authority to go wherever he damn well pleased within the castle grounds. If the headmaster was inclined to do so, he could walk into the girl's dormitory in any of the houses, as much as the residents and staff may disapprove of such things, and the, rather biased in Herwald's opinion, wards set up to deter wayward males would not activate.

Though there was little chance of that ever happening, as morals aside, Jubstacheit had been quite vocal about the 'twinkle-eyed wichser's sexual preference, though that simply gave Herwald ANOTHER reason to avoid the Headmaster, even if it meant going to the bathroom while invisible.

'I wonder how the world would react if it ever came public that his vendetta against Grindlewald started out as a lover's spat?' the teen muttered, slipping out of the abandoned girl's bathroom, which was technically off limits till it was repaired and so the last place the Headmaster would expect to look, making his way down the hall towards the main hall for lunch.

Hermione had returned the day before term started, and while she thanked him for the book, it was with a reserved undertone that implied she'd taken the contents too seriously to heart. It took Neville and Herwald the better part of the day to point out that, between friends, most of the formalities listed were redundant, after which she reverted to her usual bossy self, once again leading them in the search for the ever elusive Flamel, berating Herwald for his lack of interest even as he distracted Neville by helping the boy with his work.

* * *

_Library... _

"Honestly Herwald." Hermione muttered, looking at the Slytherin boy with mild disapproval in her tone as she brought another pile of books onto the table "I can't understand why you wouldn't want to know what the Dog's guarding."

'It's not that I don't want to know, it's that I DO.' Herwald muttered, even as he smiled apologetically at the girl 'What I don't want is to be dragged into whatever asinine scheme that lemon-sucking old Dummkopf has come up with in his ivory tower.'

Hermione looked like she wanted to press the issue, but at that moment Neville toppled into the Library earning an annoyed look from Madam Pince, Herwald's eyes narrowing as he noticed how the boy's legs had been stuck together with what was clearly the Leg-Locker Curse.

"Neville!" Hermione gasped, ignoring the look Madam Pince sent her way as she leapt up from her seat, dashing over to her friend and housemate, performing the counter-curse, Herwald helping Neville to his feet as his legs sprang apart "What happened?"

"I bumped into Malfoy, Draco sorry, and Ron arguing in the corridor." Neville admitted shakily, his legs trembling as Herwald helped him into a chair "They were hurling curses at each other, and I don't just mean Spells either, if Gran heard me use those words she'd use Scourgify on my mouth."

"That doesn't explain how you managed to get jinxed yourself." Herwald muttered, the adoptede Einzbern looking down at the round-faced boy in concern "I highly doubt Ron Weasley managed this…don't tell me Draco…"

"No!" Neville exclaimed, only o pause uncertainly "I mean yes…not really…" he shook himself to compose his thoughts "I tried sneaking past them when one of their Jinxes caught me from behind just as I was moving up the stairs, I'd have asked for help but Professor Snape showed up and…"

"You ran off…" Herwald finished, understanding in his emerald eyes even as Neville lowered his head in shame "I don't blame you Neville, I wouldn't want to be anywhere NEAR Potions Master Snape when he stumbles onto something like that. Quite frankly I'd take my chances with Hagrid's Cerberus." He smiled at the boy, reaching into his pocket for a Chocolate Frog, the very last one from the box Hermione had given him for Christmas, handing it to the boy with a pat on the shoulder "Just relax, I'll have a word with Draco about being more careful with his spells."

"Thanks, Herwald." Neville offered, his lips twitching in a weak smile as he unwrapped the frog, looking down at the card he received with mild disappointment "Dumbledore again," he muttered sadly "Do you want it Herwald, I've already got…"

He trailed off, Herwald staring at the boy in confusion as his stared at the back of the card. "Neville?" Hermione wondered, concern in her voice as the boy's eyes widened "Is everything alright?"

"I've found him!" Neville croaked, looking up at his confused friends with disbelief in his face, disbelief that was giving way to elation "I've found Flamel!" he elaborated, holding up Dumbledore's card "Listen to this: 'Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel'!"

Herwald swore, cursing himself, and the creators of the Famous Witches and Wizard cards, even as Hermione jumped to her feet, a look of excitement on her face.

"Hang on!" she insisted excitedly, reaching into her book bag, Herwald and Neville barely having a moment to blink at one another in confusion, before she straightened up, an enormous old book in her arms "I never thought to look in here!" she whispered excitedly. "I got this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading."

"Light?" Neville stammered, looking at Herwald in alarm, only for Herwald to shrug his shoulders helplessly, as even HE wouldn't have considered something so ancient to be 'Light Reading', 'Medium-Heavy' at best.

Hermione, to her credit, ignored the statement, opening the book and flicking frantically through the pages, muttering to herself, before beaming as she finally found what she was looking for "I knew it! I knew it!" she exclaimed, looking up at the boys excitedly "Nicolas Flamel," she whispered dramatically, "is the only known maker of the Sorcerer's Stone!"

"The what?" Neville wondered, blinking at her in confusion, while Herwald simply sighed in exasperation.

"Bloody Wizards." He muttered, earning a look of confusion from the pair "They always have to make it seem like it was THEIR idea first." He looked at the two grimly "It's actually the Philosopher's stone, Nicholas Flamel was a respected Magus, true, but he was primarily an Alchemist, and created the stone THROUGH Alchemy."

"You knew?" Hermione stammered, her brown eyes widening in understanding, before narrowing as she glared at him accusingly "You knew all this time and you didn't tell us?"

"Would it have done you any good if I had?" Herwald countered, his tone placating "After all, even if you knew the Stone was in Hogwarts, what difference would it have made?"

"But just what exactly IS the Stone?" Neville persisted, looking between the two in confusion, even as Hermione huffed at the explanation "What is it?"

"The Philosopher's stone," Herwald picked up "which IS it's true name Hermione, no matter what that book says, is an Alchemical catalyst of the highest calibre, the result of Nicholas Flamel's research into reaching Akasha." He waved a hand at their confused looks "I'll explain later, it's basically a goal that all Magi aspire themselves to, the source of all knowledge and creation."

Hermione's eyes lit up at this, and Herwald had to wonder who he pitied more, the Magus Association for when the girl marched through their gates, or Akasha if she ever managed to lay hands on it. "The stone is a powerful transmutation amplifier." He continued "Capable of eradicating the limits one would normally encounter in transmutation, most prominently the law of equivalent exchange, meaning you can create a greater effect from almost nothing." He paused as Madam Pince shuffled past, eyeing them suspiciously with her vulture-like expression until she passed around the corner "Not only that, but according to legends and so-called eye-witness accounts the stone produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal."

"Blimey…" Neville exclaimed, his eyes wide with shock at the very idea of someone out there living forever without fear of death "You're serious?"

"Considering Herr Flamel and his Wife Perenelle were born in the 1300's, and my Grandfather and the headmaster have both made their acquaintance, I find little reason to doubt the Stone's powers are, in fact, real." Herwald pointed out, the two Gryffindors blinking in shock at the reminder "What I can't understand is what the Hölle the Stone if doing HERE."

"Well, the card DID say that Dumbledore and Flamel were friends…" Hermione proposed, holding up a finger for emphasis "Maybe he asked him to look after it for safe-keeping?"

"Hermione, the Flamels are a pair of six-hundred year old Magi that have had CENTURIES of experience hiding himself from all forms of magical and mundane pursuers." Herwald reminded the girl flatly "If they didn't want anyone to find the stone, they'd simply take the damn thing with them." He shook his head as she glanced at the book she'd brought out "That thing's older than DUMBLEDORE, Hermione, it's safe to assume they've changed their address several times since that book was printed."

"Though that certainly explains why we couldn't find Flamel in that Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry." Neville noted, trying to lighten the mood "He's not exactly recent if he's six hundred and sixty-five, is he?"

"I suppose…" Hermione muttered, the bushy-haired Gryffindor slumping in her seat, though she didn't look too pleased at the revelation, only for the inquisitive glint to return to her eyes as she glanced up at Herwald "So what's this Akasha you were talking about?"

'Seriously,' Herwald muttered, even as he began to deliver a dumbed down version of what the search for Akasha meant to Magi 'the damned Root of the World wouldn't know what hit it.'

* * *

_A week Later... _

Fortunately for Herwald's sanity, Hermione was easily distracted from asking too many questions about Akasha after he pointed out that it was traditional for Magi to do so on their own, and that they had more pressing concerns, namely preparation for the upcoming exams.

Hermione, predictably, put her new 'pet project' to the side in favour of drawing up study schedules and colour coding all her notes, doing the same for Herwald and Neville, the latter of whom was only too glad to have someone help with his studies, as his notes had gotten MUCH better under their combined tutelage.

"Ten weeks," Hermione muttered, shaking her head in dismay as she scribbled down several key notes that Flitwick had assured her would be on the exam "That's nowhere NEAR as long as it once seemed…that's like a second to Nicolas Flamel…oh I should have started studying a month ago, I don't know what's gotten into me…"

The teachers seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Hermione, going so far as to pile so much homework on the complaining students that the Easter holidays weren't nearly as much fun as the Christmas ones.

The trio spent most of their free time in the library, where Herwald helped a grateful Neville with his assignments, allowing Hermione to focus on her notes, though the girl DID pop out of her frantic studying from time to time to help out, also leading them for mini-quizzes to test what they'd learned, which Neville was surprised to find he DIDN'T fail as often as he thought he would.

Herwald was looking up "Dittany" in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, only to pause as he felt a familiar presence walking behind the bookshelves stealthily or as stealthily as a half-giant could manage rather "Quite a rarity to run into you in the Library, Hagrid." He called out, startling the other two and the groundskeeper, who shuffled into view, hiding something behind his back. "Checking out a book?"

"Jus' lookin'…" Hagrid muttered in a shifty voice that got their interest at once, his black beetle eyes roaming over the trio warily "An' what're you lot up ter? Yer not still lookin' fer Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?"

"Nothing so far." Herwald lied, kicking Neville under the table to keep him from speaking up, Hermione's eyes flashing in understanding from across the table "Don't think we'll EVER manage it, what with all the studying we've got to do for exams."

"Well…good…" Hagrid muttered, seeming more relieved than they'd ever seen him since he'd first let the Alchemist's name slip out ages ago "Listen, why don't you all come down to my Hut for tea later? All that Studyin' won't do you no good if yer pass out from exhaustion."

"We'll see if we can make it." Herwald assured the half-giant, smiling uo at the gentle, if coarse Groundskeeper, only to frown as the half-giant shuffled off, making sure to avoid Madam Pince on his way out.

"What was he hiding behind his back?" said Hermione wondered, a thoughtful expression forming on her face as she stared after their half-giant friend "Do you think it had anything to do with the Stone?"

"I'd doubt it very much." Herwald countered, shaking his head as he spoke "Hagrid already knows we're looking for Flamel, he wouldn't risk Madam Pince's ire to sneak something that might give the game away into his house, and then invite us down for tea."

"Well that's true…" Hermione as forced to admit, though she didn't look entirely convinced, as Hagrid wasn't exactly the Fort Knox of Secret Keepers "And I suppose it'll be nice to unwind over a nice cup of tea."

* * *

_An Hour Later..._

When they knocked on the door of the gamekeeper's hut, they were surprised to see that all the curtains were closed, Hagrid shutting the door hurriedly after he'd bundled them into the stifling hot interior, a blazing hot fire roaring in the grate despite the warm day outside.

"So yeh've given up on Flamel ave yeh?" Hagrid asked, setting tea out for the trio and offering them stoat sandwiches, which only Herwald accepted, used to such stranger fare. They were surprisingly We really don't have the time." The boy-who-lived lied, sending a silent look to Neville and Hermione to play along, even as the latter hesitatingly bit into one of the sandwiches "What with exams coming, up a three headed dog and whatever the hell its guarding are the least of our concerns."

"Tha's true I suppose…" Hagrid chuckled, his massive gorse bush of a beard twitching as he smiled "Though how yeh even know abou' Fluffy in the firs' place is beyond me."

"Let's just say Peeves and Filch were involved." Herwald hinted, earning a nod and a look of understanding from the half-giant as he sipped his tea "I have to admit, you did a good job raising him Hagrid, Cerberi are a notoriously dangerous breed, Dumbledore must REALLY trust you if he asked you to part with him to protect whatever's in the corridor."

Hagrid's chest swelled at the teen's words, and Herwald suddenly felt like a heel for manipulating the well-meaning half-giant so. He resolved to make it up to the man later, but for now, there was information to be had.

"Well, I won' deny that I was dead chuffed when Dumbledore asked to borrow Fluffy." Hagrid admitted, patting his beard down "'course he didn't just stop there, he asked a whole bunch of the teachers to help out: Professor Sprout, Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall…" he ticked them off on his fingers as he spoke "Professor Quirrell…an' Dumbledore himself did somethin', o' course." His brows furrowed in confusion "Hang on, I've forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Snape."

'So Herbology, Charms, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Potions.' Herwald muttered, is eyes narrowing in thought as Hagrid trailed off 'Excluding whatever Dumbledore deem a protection, that's all the subjects first year students are privy to.' He frowned suspiciously 'IT's almost as if he EXPECTS me to go after the stone…'

"You're the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy. aren't you, Hagrid?" he asked suddenly, eyeing the well-meaning groundskeeper warily "And you wouldn't tell anyone, would you? Not even one of the teachers?"

"Not a soul knows except me an' Dumbledore," said Hagrid proudly, puffing his massive chest up even wider if that was even physically possible.

"Well, that's something." Herwald admitted, though it had been more for Hermione and Neville's benefit than to flatter Hagrid, the boy wincing as he felt sweat drip down the side of his head "Hagrid, can we have a window open? I'm boiling."

"Can't, Harry, sorry," Hagrid apologized, Herwald frowning as he noticed the half-giant's black beetle eyes glance at the fire, following the man's gaze, only to gape in shock at the huge black egg that lay beneath the kettle, in the very heart of the fire. "Ah," Hagrid stammered, realizing that he'd given the game away, the Half-Giant fiddling nervously with his beard as Herwald's face turned pale "That's…er…"

"Gott im Himmel…" Herwald choked, his pace pale and his eyes wide as he glanced at the Groundskeeper in larm "Hagrid, where in the name of Siegfried did you manage to get your hands on a DRAGON EGG?"

"SSSSH!"Hagrid hissed, waving his dustbin-lid hands desperately to keep the boy from shouting, his black eyes wide with alarm "Keep it down will yeh? I won it, las' night. I was down in the village havin' a few drinks an' got into a game o' cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest."

"I can't say I blame him." Herwald muttered, recovering from his shock, glaring at the deceptively fragile looking egg in the fireplace "It's illegal to trade in Dragon Eggs for a REASON Hagrid, I hope you weren't planning on raising it up when it hatched." He turned to look at the Groundskeeper, who was looking rather sheepish "Gott im Himmel...you've got to be kidding…"

"Well, I've bin doin' some readin'," Hagrid admitted sheepishly, pulling a large book from under his pillow. "Got this outta the library: 'Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit', it's a bit outta date, o' course, but it's all in here." He opened the book to a specific page "Keep the egg in the fire, 'cause their mothers breathe on I em, see, an' when it hatches, feed it on a bucket o' brandy mixed with chicken blood every half hour." He shuffled through to another page further in "An' see here, how ter recognize diff'rent eggs, what I got there's a Norwegian Ridgeback." He sat back, looking very pleased with himself "They're rare, them."

Herwald could care less if the egg in the fire was the last of its kind, a sentiment that was clearly shared by Neville and Hermione, the bushy haired girl trying to point out the folly in the groundskeeper's plan, such as the fact he lived in a wooden house for starters, but Hagrid refused to listen, simply humming a silly little tune whilst stoking the fire.

So now they had something else to worry about, namely just how long it would tke for Hagrid's little 'baby' to set his fool head on fire.

'I think I'm beginning to understand Shirou's longing for the 'old days'…' Herwald muttered, referring to the days before his step-brother had stumbled across Lancer and Archer duking it out in the yard 'I blame the Root for this, I really do…'

* * *

_Several days later..._

From that moment on, evening after evening saw all the students struggling through all the extra homework they were getting. Draco would procrastinate, loudly, over th unfairness of it all, while Herwald guided Crabbe and Goyle through their mistakes, the two boys paying attention eagerly as their dorm-mate made the formerly complex material easier to comprehend.

Then one morning, Hermione had caught his eye during breakfast, Herwald making some excuse to lag behind afterwards to see what she wanted, the girl holding out a letter she'd received from Hagrid earlier that morning, a letter which consisted of two words, but which carried with them the same sense of dread a mage felt prior to receiving a Sealing Designtion:

_It's hatching_.

Herwald wanted nothing to do with it, he had enough on his plate to deal with without worrying about miniature fire breathing monsters that could get them all expelled and Hagrid sacked. Neville seemed torn between his fear of being caught and his desire to see the hatching, it wasn't every day you saw a birth after all, and the number of humans that had been at ground zero for a dragon hatching could be counted on one hand, as the females were VERY protective of their young.

In the end, Hermione had convinced them to join her at Hagrids during morning break, which was the earliest they could get down without missing out on any classes, the three of them leaving the Greenhouses at different times to avoid drawing suspicion, Herwald pretending to double back to pick up a textbook he'd left behind, before cutting through the edge of the forest towards Hagrid's hut, the Giant looking flushed and excited as he let him in.

"It's nearly out." He revealed, ushering the Sltherin youth in, Herwald eyeing the black egg on the table warily as it rocked. There were already deep cracks in the shell, and something inside it was clearly moving, making strange clicking noises as it did so.

The others all drew their chairs up to the table and watched with bated breath, while Herwald, erring on the side of caution, chose to sit a little further back, eyeing the metal frying pan Hagrid had hanging on the wall, wondering how it would serve as a makeshift shield against infant dragon fire, just as a the egg split open with a scraping noise, the baby dragon flopping onto the table.

It wasn't exactly pretty or noble looking, if anything it resembled a crumpled, black umbrella. Its spiny wings were huge compared to its skinny jet body, it had a long snout with wide nostrils, the stubs of horns and bulging, orange eyes. A far cry from the majestic, magical creatures which were said to be the living embodiment of magic.

And then it sneezed, causing a couple of sparks to fly out of its snout, and Herwald was reminded that even wolves looked harmless as pups, and dragons were decidedly more dangerous than wolves.

"Isn't he beautiful?" Hagrid murmured, proving that a parents love, regadless of circumstance, was indeed blind as he reached out a hand to stroke the dragon's head. The dragon, in turn, snapped at his fingers, showing that even as an infant, it still possessed the pointed fangs that could one day devour a Knight in full plate armour "Bless him, look, he knows his mummy!"

"Hagrid…" Hermione spoke up, a decidedly wary expression on her face, proving that while a parents love was blind, the casual observer was not so limited "How fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow, exactly?"

Hagrid was about to answer when the colour suddenly drained from his face, the half-giant leaping to his feet and running to the window "Someone was lookin' through the gap in the curtains…" he muttered, looking concerned "it's a kid, he's runnin' back up ter the school."

Herwald was moving the moment the word 'watching' left the Giant's mouth, slamming the door to the hut open and leaping out onto the grounds, his reinforced eyes easily catching sight of the retreating, redheaded figure.

Not bothering to check if anyone else was watching, he activated the circuits in his left array, slapping his palm into the ground, the earth beneath him sparking with alchemical energy as he manipulated it, sending it chasing after the spy, who let out a fry of alarm as he was suddenly sucked down into the ground up to the neck, only his head sticking above ground like a crimson gorse bush.

"Well, well, well…" Herwald muttered, his tone laced with cold amusement as he walked up to the struggling figure "Ronald Weasley, from Bully to Voyeur, you truly are a man of many talents."

"Let me go you bastard!" Ron snarled, glaring up at Herwald in fearful defiance, averting his eyes from the boy's emerald stare "You can't do this to me! I haven't done anything!"

"You'd be amazed how many peeping toms try to use that excuse, Herr Weasley." Herwald noted dryly standing over the struggling redhead, his expression unreadable "I would hardly call spying on Hagrid and then rushing off to report him 'nothing' either."

"I didn't know about the bloody dragon dammit!" Ron snapped, looking up at the Slytherin angrily, only to flinch as Herwald's glare intensified "I just wanted to see what the hell you were doing sneaking down to his hut!"

"I did not SNEAK down here, Herr Weasley." Herwald countered, only to pause "Well…technically I DID today, but only for the sake of preserving Hagrid's status. I've no doubt even Dumbledore will be unable find it in him to forgive the man for bringing a DRAGON onto the School Grounds."

Ron flinched, suddenly looking decidedly sick, as if he hadn't considered that when he'd seen Herwald and the others crowded around a baby dragon. "I…wasn't about to go telling anyone…" he muttered, flinching at Herwald's penetrating stare "It's just…Hagrid's always been given a hard time by Slytherins…my brothers were always telling me how they used to get revenge on pratts that used to make fun of him. Sure he always kept them out of the forest, but that's his JOB, it only showed he cared. Everyone in Gryffindor loves Hagrid…he's one of us…"

Herwald stood in silence, staring down at the redhead before him with a calculating expression, before kneeling down, placing his palm on the ground next to the boy, Ron's eyes widening as alchemical energy arched around him, the dirt holding him rising out of the ground before falling off him, leaving him slightly dirty, but unharmed.

"You'd best come inside then, Ronald." Herwald instructed, surprising the youngest Weasley with the use of his first name for the first time since their vendetta started "I doubt you got much of a good look at the dragon through the window." He elaborated, smiling wryly at the stunned boy "And maybe FOUR people can finally get it through to Hagrid that you can't raise a fire breathing dragon in a wooden hut."

Ron blinked, clearly shocked at what he was hearing, before smiling faintly, once again the lanky, spot-nosed kid that had tried to speak with Herwald on the train "Yeah, that DOES sound mental." He agreed, dusting himself off carefully "But call me Ron, only my mother calls me Ronald."

"Only if you call me Herwald, Ron." Herwald countered, and for some reason, as he walked shoulder to shoulder with the redheaded boy, the adopted Einzbern felt as if for the first time that something had been set right, the two of them walking side by side back to Hagrid's hut, where the half-giant was standing in the doorway, Hermione and Neville looking at them in confusion.

And somewhere, somehow, the Root of the World smiled.

* * *

Spy: So very touching.

Kyugan: I DID say they'd patch things up later. Expect more later today, but for now, duty calls.


	13. Chapter 12: Night Flight

Kyugan: Swift update, as promised.

Demoman: KA-BEWM!

Kyugan: Firewhiskey

Demoman: Och, thank's laddie, ye're alrigh' fer a Paddy.

Kyugan: Could say the same for you, you drunken Higland cyclops.

Spy: *Entering with a nod* Gentlemen. *Quirks a brow as Demoman chuggs his firewhiskey* would you care for a GLASS with your cheap swill?

Demoman: *Flips Spy off, but doesn't stop drinking*

Kyugan: I'll have you know that one bottle's worth at LEAST Forty Euros in your native France, so I'd appreciate you not calling it cheap.

Spy: Pardon, Auteur, no disrespect, on another note, still no sign of Medic.

Kyugan: Ah well, I'm sure he'll show up. In any case, the Wheel of Fate is Turning, let us see what the Shift in the Continuum has wrought...

* * *

Night Flight.

It had been three weeks since Norbert's hatching, and Ron had joined the trio at their regular visits to Hagrid's hut in the evenings. Neville had accepted the Gryffindor easily enough, for as much as a prick as he was, Weasley was a Gryffindor through and through, and had protected Neville from Slytherin bullies, which were NOT, it seemed, limited to Draco, as the enmity between Serpents and Lions had been going on since the founding of Hogwarts.

Herwald and Ron, surprisingly, got on a lot better than either thought they would, once the redhead got past the fact his new friend wore Slytherin Green, he realized that Herwald wasn't withdrawn and aloof because he was a prick, but because he was a quiet person that was still getting used to having people his own age to associate with. Herwald, likewise, that the reason behind Ron's desire for attention was the result of having FIVE older brothers, all of whom had already found, or were planning, their paths in life.

The Eldest, Bill, had been Gryffindor Prefect and then Head Boy during his school years, and now worked as a Curse-Breaker for Gringotts. Charlie, the second oldest who now worked on the Dragon Preserve, had also been not only been a Prefect, but Captain and Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team in his day. With Percy already Prefect, and Fred and George being the demented geniuses they were, Ron had been left with some VERY footsteps to follow in.

The only real problem lay between Ron and Hermione, who always seemed to be at odds with one another due to the events of the previous Halloween. Ron was too proud to come right out and apologize for being a complete and utter prick, even if he HADN'T intended for her to run off in tears and get attacked by a Troll, and Hermione was too proud to just forgive and forget, even if she DID admit she'd been a bit of a stuck-up snob back then. In the end they settled for never speaking of the matter again, which Herwald and Neville figured was a good a place as any to start.

* * *

_Hagrid's hut, evening... _

"I still can't believe it…" Ron muttered, the youngest Weasley Brother looking on as Norbert devoured a massive bucket of brandy and chicken blood in rapid time "Where the hell is he putting it all?"

"A dragon's digestive tract can dissolve most metals, Ron." Hermione supplied, keeping well back, having learned from experience that Norbert liked to belch after a meal, and that his flame's reach was getting longer as the capacity of its stomach increased "It stands to reason they must burn through their food like nobody's business."

"It'll be somebody's business soon enough if he keeps drinking up all the alcohol in the castle." Herwald noted, quirking a brow at the piles of empty brandy bottles that Hagrid had nicked out of the cellars, which Herwald suspected belonged to a certain Potion's Master judging by the man's increasing annoyance during potions classes "No offence Hagrid but you can't keep this up forever, you're going to have to set him free."

"I can't," Hagrid countered, shaking his head in refusal, his beetle black eyes looking down at the walking fire-hazard he called his 'baby' in concern "He's too little. He'd die."

Herwald swore under his breath, cursing the Root of the World and the mythical force of 'mother's love' to the depths of hell and back again. It was truly amazing how everyone but Hagrid could see that his 'little baby' had grown three times in length in just the last week. He now had to remain on the floor as he was too big for the table, and the smoke that kept furling out of its nostrils was growing decidedly thicker as it took in more and more blood enriched brandy with each passing day. Hagrid hadn't been doing his game keeping duties because the dragon was keeping him so busy, there were enough chicken feathers mixed in among the discarded brandy bottles to start up a pillow factory.

"I've decided to call him Norbert," Hagrid declared, ignoring the look of exasperation Herwald sent his way a he smiled down at the dragon with misty eyes. "He really knows me now, watch." He clucked his tongue at the beast to get its attention "Norbert! Norbert! Where's Mommy?"

Norbert raised its head from the bucket, swallowing the mouthful of blood-rich brandy as it eyed the bearded half-giant with reptilian eyes, before opening its mouth and letting out a sharp belch, along with a gout of flame that singed Hagrid's beard, forcing the Groundskeeper to back off.

"Whoops!" he exclaimed, patting himself down hurriedly, smiling proudly at the living fire-hazard that had tried to roast him alive "Good one Norbert! See? He knows if he doesn't let the air out he'll get sick…"

"He's lost his marbles," Ron muttered in Herwald's ear, the Einzbern youth nodding his head in agreement as they watched the Half-giant fuss over his 'baby', pouring more brandy into Norbert's bucket to top it up "Seriously, we need to do something, at this rate it's going to set his FACE on fire before he realizes it's dangerous."

"If he notices it at ALL." Herwald agreed, somehow getting the feeling that if Norbert were to set Hagrid's face on fire, the half-giant would insist that it had been nothing more than an overzealous kiss. The man seemed to lack the basic understanding that, when a dragon breathed fire at you, it meant they didn't like you. "Hagrid." He stated firmly "I can understand you infatuation with…Norbert…" he eyed the living fire hazard warily "But give it two weeks and he," She? How in the hell could the Half Giant tell? "IT is going to be as long as your house. Even Dumbledore won't be able to turn a blind eye with a DRAGON wandering around the grounds."

Hagrid bit his lip, and Herwald knew he'd made a dent in the groundskeeper's armour. No matter how much he loved all things dangerous and homicidal, Hagrid's loyalty to Dumbledore came first. "I know I can't keep him forever," he admitted, his black beetle eyes quivering with emotion as he eyed the not-so-little dragon as it curled up to sleep, sated for now "but I can't jus' dump him, I can't."

"Nobody said you had to dump him, Hagrid." Herwald countered, honestly terrified at the prospect, as knowing the well-meaning groundskeeper, he'd simply let the Dragon run free in the Forbidden forest behind his hut "We'll need to find a way to get in contact with someone that can take him off our hands…" he blinked, before turning to look at Ron "Hauptgewinn!"

"Pardon?" Ron wondered, blinking at the Slytherin youth in confusion, still not quite used to his occasional use of German. Quite frankly it unnerved him.

"Didn't you say your olde r Brother Charlie works on a Dragon Preserve in Romania?" Herwald asked, the others' eyes widening in recollection "We could send Norbert to him. I'm sure any reserve wouldn't question having a rare Norwegian Ridgeback added to their flight, and this way…Norbert…" Gott but he didn't like that name "Can grow up in the wild like a Dragon should."

"Brilliant!" Ron exclaimed, grinning ear to ear at his Slytherin friend's genius, wondering how in the world HE hadn't thought of his own brother with a bloody dragon sitting right in front of him, eyeing his fingers hungrily "How about it, Hagrid?"

"I remember Charlie Weasley." Hagrid muttered, his tone slightly more hopeful at the prospect of Norbert growing up as a Dragon should, though he still looked morose at the idea of having to let the fire-starter go "Good lad, remember Grubbly Plank, that's the Care For Magical Creatures Professor, sayin he was the most enthusiastic student since before I got kicked out…"he waved a hand hurriedly as they looked at him in surprise "Never yeh mind, what I'm sayin' is, if yeh can get a hold of Charlie Weasley, I'll consider lettin' Norbert go with him ter Romania."

* * *

_1 week later..._

With Hagrid's reluctant agreement, Ron set out to mail a letter to his elder brother in Romania, though he DID wonder why Herwald insisted they ask BILL to pass it on, only for Herwald to point out that it wasn't uncommon for the School Owls to be checked by Filch, and so another letter was drafted and sent out, asking the eldest Weasley brother to forward the message on to the second.

The following week dragged by, the quartet doing their best to help Hagrid with Norbert, though Herwald insisted that HE be the one to take evening shifts, as there was less chance of him getting caught in the halls than the rest of them.

Norbert kept getting bigger and bigger, and Herwald was beginning to wonder if, by the time Charlie got the letter, as he'd no clue where the hell Bill was in comparison to Romania, the blasted reptile would be too big to smuggle out without an army of handlers armed to the teeth.

Thursday morning found him marching into the Great hall for breakfast with a face like a thundercloud. The reason for his ire was that Norbert, who was now devouring rats by the crate, had come DAMN close to taking a bite out of him as well. Were it not for the fact that even as infants Dragons were notoriously magic resistant, Herwald would have put the little bastard out of his misery, Hagrid's infatuation be damned.

* * *

_Breakfast..._

_'Don' frighten Norbert _INDEED…' he muttered, honestly starting to get annoyed with the well-meaning half-giant, though he suppressed his ire as that was simply how Hagrid was. It might make him seem a little odd, but the groundskeeper was still one of the nicest people Herwald had the pleasure to meet, and he made a DAMN fine stoat sandwich to boot.

He got the look Hermione sent him, his eyes narrowing as he spotted the letter Ron was reading at the table, subtly sending her a signal by picking up his goblet with his left hand to let her know he'd understood, before tugging on the collar of his robes as if to loosen them.

As children, he and Illyasviel had come up with all manner of ways to speak to one another without the rest of the family listening in. They'd actually devised an entire language that was composed of a few, seemingly natural gestures.

He'd taught a few of these to Hermione, as it wouldn't do for their little 'get-togethers' to draw any more attention than need be, and so at break, when everyone went about their own way, the group met up in Owlery, where the winged messengers were getting a good days rest.

"I got a reply to Charlie's letter last night." Ron revealed, looking excited, though whether it was at the letter or the whole clandestine setting of their meeting was anyone's guess "Have a read!"

Herwald did so, his brow quirking as his opinion of the former Gryffindor Captain grew and grew with each passing sentence. Charlie certainly didn't seem to care that the Dragon was Illegal, despite being an official handler, he didn't ask where Hagrid had got the brute from, all he seemed interested in was taking Norbert of the Half-Giant's hands and far, far away from Hogwarts before it got big enough to do more than take passing bites at students.

"Well, at least he's agreed to help." Hermione supposed, her brown eyes narrowing in thought as she crossed her arms "But how are we supposed to get a growing Norwegian Ridgeback up the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday?"

"She has a point." Neville noted, the Gryffindor boy looking decidedly nervous at the idea of actually bringing Norbert into the castle, just him being on the GROUNDs was enough to get Hagrid fired after all "Flinch and Peeves aside, it's not like we can just drag him through the corridors. I don't think Norbert was going to appreciate being stuffed in a crate either."

"Slip him a sleeping potion in his brandy and he'll be out like a light." Herwald opined, earning looks of shock from the others "It's a proven strategem against Dragons, Dragonhide might be magically resistant, but their insides aren't so well protected. A sleeping potion should work just as well on an infant dragon a it would a full grown man."

"Well that's one problem sorted I suppose." Hermione noted, looking mildly impressed with her friend's solution "Though it still leaves the task of getting him up the tower without being seen. We can't ALL turn invisible like you can Herwald."

"Maybe you can..." Herwald muttered, stroking his chin in thought "I have an invisibility cloak," he admitted, Neville and Ron's eyes widening while Hermione, ever the scholar, blinked in renewed interest "It's an heirloom from my fath-James Potter." He corrected hastily "It should be big enough to cover two people and Norbert."

"Wicked." Ron breathed, the Gryffindor redhead looking at his Slytherin friend enviously, not for the first time "A real invisibility cloak? I'd give anything for one of those."

"You can borrow it for Saturday night." Herwald assured him, looking from the stunned, excited redhead to Neville "You, Neville and I will bring Norbert up the tower. Sorry Hermione, but I think it's best if you stay behind to come up with a excuse in case anyone asks where they've gone."

"Well…alright…" Hermione muttered, looking concerned, "But what about YOU Herwald? Without the cloak you'll be seen!"

"I don't need an invisibility cloak to became invisible." Herwald assured her, smiling at the stunned looks on their faces even as he swore he heard what sounded like Dumbledore sneeze in the distance "Now let's get out of here, we've got potions together and I don't think we'd want the Potions Master asking us why we were late.

* * *

_As time passes..._

They focused on their studies for the rest of the week, Herwald only communicating with them in passing, instead focusing his attention on his studies and conversing with his Slytherin friends, who were revelling in their leading in both the Quidditch and House cups for what would appear to be the Seventh consecutive Year. Professor Snape actually seemed pleased with their progress, at least enough that he wasn't perpetually frowning, though he never actually smiled.

When they DID get together however, Hermione had brought up another problem: how on earth they were supposed to create a sleeping potion to make Norbert more manageable? Ron, with typical Gryffindor lack of common sense, had bravely, or foolishly depending how you looked at it, suggested they steal from Professor Snape.

After pointing out the folly in this plan, and calming a terrified Neville down, they instead approached Madam Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing, claiming they were, at different times, having trouble sleeping due to exam stress. The Medic-witch had supplied them each, in turn, with a small vial of potion, a simple sleeping draught that would ensure a dreamless sleep. Alone it would only make a grown man drowsy, but four bottles of the sttuff should be strong enough to ensure Norbert's flight was an uneventfull one.

Needless to say, after pretending to turn in early from the night, Herwald activated his ring, pulled the invisibility cloak out from under his belongings, before sneaking out of the dorms, racing down the halls, meeting up with the Gryffindor boys half-way between Hagrid's hut, scaring the crap out of Ron when he apparently popped into existence at the boy's elbow. "Be QUIET Ron!" he hissed, looking around in concern even as he clapped her hand over the redhead's mouth "Honestly, what if someone heard you?"

"S'not my fault." Ron muttered as the Slytherin teen pulled his hand away "He should have let us know he was here before he did that!"

"Oh, so you wouldn't have screamed if a disembodied voice sounded beside you then?" Herwald asked, his tone wry even as Ron's ears turned pink and Neville turned decidedly paler at the idea "Never mind, I'd have thought you would have been there by now, was there a delay?"

"Had to wait for Peeves to bugger off before we could risk slipping out of the castle." Ron muttered, getting over his earlier embarrassment as he recalled the annoyance "Little bastard was playing tennis against the wall."

"I think I'll have to revise my sentiment to make that pest's exorcism painless after all." Herwald muttered, shaking his head in disgust even as he turned to Neville "Hermione stayed behind as planned?"

"She's going to wait up for us in the common room." Neville supplied dutifully "That way, if Percy asks if anyone's been past, she can deny seeing us leave."

"Good." Herwald noted, nodding in approval at the girl's creativeness "Now let's get this over with, the sooner we ship that little flamethrower off, the easier I'll sleep tonight."

Ron and Neville nodded in agreement, clearly sharing in their Slytherin friend's desire to see the back of Norbert, as did Fang apparently, Hagrid's black boarhound looking up at them with an almost uncanny sense of relief in his black eyes, though that might have something to do with the bandage wrapped around his tail. Apparently Norbert had reached the stage where rats weren't enough.

"Hagrid." Herwald called out, not TOO loudly mind you, even as Neville and Ron kept an eye out for any eavesdroppers, their wands out and ready "We're here."

"Hey there…" Hagrid greeted, the groundskeeper's face appearing in the window, which he opened for the first time since he'd gotten hold of the egg, revealing his skin was reddened beneath his facial hair "I won't let you in," he puffed "Norbert's at a tricky stage…" he grimaced as something smashed in the hut "nothin' I can't handle."

"We got a message from Charlie Weasley." Herwald revealed, nodding to Ron, who pulled the missive out of his robes and handed it to the boy, who held it up for Hagrid to read "He's coming here TONIGHT, with several other handlers, to take Norbert off to the reserve in Romania."

Admittedly, Herwald felt a little bad waiting until the last minute before informing Hagrid about Charlie's reply, but it had to be done. Left to his own devices, Hagrid would procrastinate and procrastinate and then they'd NEVER get him to let the Dragon go. This way, it would quick and efficient, like limb amputation, which Norbert was apparently taking an interest in as the dragon took a bite out of Hagrid' leg.

"Aargh!" the half-giant yelped, only to cover it up with a quick smile, "It's all right, he only got my boot." He assured them, even as tears formed in his black beetle eyes "Jus' playin', he's only a baby, after all."

"Yes, the teething stage tends to make them a little irritable." Herwald agreed dryly, Ron and Neville unable to help the snorts of amusement at his tone, though fortunately, the sarcasm went right over Hagrid's massive head, along with whatever was unfortunate enough to be caught in the path of Norbert's tail as he banged it against the wall, making the windows rattle.

Fortunately, Charlie had chosen a dark, cloudy night, so the odds of someone seeing them from the castle were slim to none. As such, all they had to do was wait patiently for Hagrid to feed Norbert his nightly bucket of blood-rich brandy, topped up with four bottles of sleeping draught, the dragon dropping off to sleep, smoke curling out of his nostrils ominously, allowing Hagrid to lift him up, probably for the first time ever, and deposit him in a large crate which Herwald fashioned on the spot with his alchemy, reinforcing it so that the infant dragon couldn't smash his way out, before adding air holes as an afterthought. After all, it wouldn't do for Charlie and his associates to risk their lives and jobs only to find the dragon they'd rescued had choked to death on his own smoke.

"Here's some rats an' some brandy fer the journey," Hagrid offered in a muffled voice, as if he were struggling to keep from crying, even as he dumped enough rats to kickstart a small plague and enough Brandy in a bucket to give a college dorm liver failure "An' I brought his teddy bear in case he gets lonely."

Herwald blinked, staring at the cute, adorable thing that wouldn't have looked out of place in an girl's bedroom, complete with little dot eyes, brown felt fur and a limbs that hung limply at its side. He took it from the groundskeeper, subtly activating his circuits to reinforce it, whilst also altering the material of its body, making it slightly more fire resistant.

If they were lucky, Norbert would be too busy savaging the indestructible teddy to care about the fact he was being hauled through the air in a box. It'd certainly make the flight a lot easier on Charlie and his fellow handlers.

"Bye-bye, Norbert!" Hagrid sobbed, the half-giant looking on miserably as Ron and Neville pulled Herwald's invisibility cloak over themselves, making sure it covered the crate so Herwald could make sure they were hidden "Mommy will never forget you!"

'I'll be fortunate if I ever WILL.' Herwald muttered under his breath, assuring Hagrid they'd be alright, waiting for the half giant to leave before activating the Potter Ring's invisibility charm, making sure his back was to Ron and Neville, the less people that knew the source of his invisibility the better, what with Dumbledore's Legilimency.

* * *

_Castle at night..._

It was still mystery to Herwald how they managed to lug the crate through the halls without drawing attention to themselves that night. While they hardly expected anyone to be wandering the halls except Peeves, the numerous ghosts, Filch and Mrs. Norris, the fact they ran into NONE of them no matter where they went was more than a little worrying. Even the portraits which lined the hall seemed to either be absent from their frames, or in a sleep so deep they weren't even roused when Norbert sneezed in his slumber, a small burst of flame appearing from thin air, prompting Neville and Ron to yelp in alarm.

As this one incident alone proved, their ascent wasn't exactly the stealthy approach Herwald had hoped for. Even without Norbert's occasional reminders that yes, he WAS in the crate, Ron ad Neville were quite possibly the clumsiest Gryffindor First years, making them ironically the foil of Crabbe and Goyle really, and lugging a massive wooden crate carrying a baby dragon, a pile of rats and enough alcohol to start a brewery would've been hard enough, even WITHOUT their having to freeze at the slightest noise, for fear that the invisibility cloak had slipped somewhere.

Wingardium Leviosa helped a little, though neither Gryffindor was particularly proficient enough to wield it while moving. Herwald and Hermione may have fared better, but the girl was back in the Gryffindor common room waiting for her dorm mates to return, and Herwald needed to keep his hands free in case something popped up ahead, using his wand to cast a low-level 'Lumos' to let them know the coast was clear.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they made it to the top of the tower, Ron and Neville pulling the cloak off, their faces red due to the heat it trapped in with them and the strain of carrying Norbert's crate, which they set down carefully in case the sudden jolt roused the irate dragon.

It was ten minutes to midnight, ten minutes which, to the boys, couldn't pass quickly enough. Herwald had brought along a book to read, and positioned himself near the stairwell in case Filch or some other prowler decided to check the tower, while Ron and Neville settled down for a game of old maid, using, much to Herwald's bemusement, Exploding Snap Cards, the 'Old Maid' in question being a rather annoyed Queen of hearts, who did NOT look amused with the term.

So far, Neville appeared to be in the lead, judging by the distinctly soot-stained appearance of Ron, the redhead blowing softly on his fingers as he reached hesitantly for the cards in the round-faced boy's hands, one of which contained the Ace he needed, the other which contained the decidedly irate queen. "Keep you waiting, ron?" a friendly voiced asked out of the blue, the trio looking up, though not before Herwald spotted Neville sneakily switching the card the redhead was about to grab with the Queen "Sorry to keep you waiting, had to dodge some crazy Muggle Flying machine."

"Muggles have flying machines?" Ron wondered, looking stunned at the revelation, even as Herwald rolled his eyes in exasperation, not that the boy's ignorance, but that of the entire wizarding world "Never mind, it's great to see you Charlie! How's Mum and Dad?"

"Fine, as always." Charlie assured the younger redhead. Herwald couldn't make out his features due to the darkness of the night,. But he seemed to be built on more stocky grounds than his younger brother "Though Mum'll fit to be tied if she ever catches wind of this."

Herwald noted the nervousness in the older man's jovial tone and the way Ron paled in the dim light, and made a note to never cross the Weasley Matron if he should ever cross her path. If she could inspire such terror in her children, one who dealt with DRAGONS on a daily basis especially, then she was perhaps just as intimidating as Grandfather Jubstacheit.

He shook such thoughts from his mind, instead allowing Charlie to introduce him to his friends, no last names of course, who were a decidedly cheery lot, and seemed to take great amusement in the whole 'cloak and dagger' element of their mission, showing off the harness they'd rigged up so they could suspend Norbert between them, helping to buckle the sleeping Dragon safely into it, before shaking hands with them and riding off into the night, the boys letting out sighs of relief as they lost sight of them Herwald using his left Array to reduce the crate to so much sawdust, scattering it across the tower-top before leaping Neville and Ron back down, the two once again under his invisibility cloak.

* * *

Kyugan: And THAT, ladies and Gentlemen, is how it SHOULD be done.

Spy: I DID think it rather strange they forgot the Invisibility Cloak.

Demoman: Whut aboot tha' Malfoy lad?

Kyugan: He never got Ron's letter, nor did he see Norbert, so he'd no reason to try and get them in trouble, so no excuse for Dumbles to allot 'extra points' come the end.

Demoman: Like THAT'LL stop him...

Spy: Since medic hasn't turned up yet, I believe I'll take this one.

Hauptgewinn: Jackpot.

R&R!


	14. Chapter 13: When The Cat's Away

Kyugan: And another.

Spy: Bravo! OH! Bravo!

Kyugan: Polnareff?

Spy: You were expecting Bravo?

Kyugan: Well he DID reference Polnareff in that one scene.

Heavy: *Bursts into the room* SPY! *Grabs Spy by the lapels of his suit* HELP!

Spy: Easy, EASY my large friend *Removes himself from Heavy's grip* Now, what is the problem?

Heavy: I found Doktor!

Kyugan: Really? Where is he?

Heavy: HERE! *Holds up bodybag*

Bodybag: MMPHHHMMM!

Spy: ...I have no words...

Kyugan: So that's where the other bodybag went...I thought we were one short...so what do you need help for?

Heavy: ZIPPER IS STUCK!

Spy: Alright, hang on mon ami... *pulls out knife* No, 'old VERY still...

Kyugan: Well this won't be pretty, in any case, the Wheel of Fate is Turning, let us see what the Shift in the Continuum has wrought...

* * *

While the Cat's Away...

"Glad that's over with." Herwald muttered, the Slytherin youth sinking into one of the armchairs which lined the Gryffindor common room, having accepted, after much argument, an invitation from the other three to come in and share a celebratory drink with them for a job well done.

"Too right mate." Ron muttered, the youngest Weasley brother sinking into his own chair, a bottle of butterbeer held in his hand "A dragon, honestly, as if the Kraken in the lake wasn't bad enough..."

"Oh the Squid's quite harmless." Hermione countered, smiling at the trio as she sat across from them, dressed in her robes despite the lateness of the hour "I'm sure professor Dumbledore wouldn't let it near the castle if the students were in any danger."

"The man let a CERBERUS into the building, Hermione." Herwald reminded the girl "Not only that, but he clearly has no understanding of how to keep a secret."

"How's that?" Neville wondered, looking at his friend in confusion, along with an intrigued Hermione and a frowning Ron, who while clearly disapproving of any insults towards the Headmaster, wanted to hear more.

"Think about it." Herwald insisted, taking a sip of butterbeer and making a note to send some of this stuff Shirou's way when he came home "If he TRULY didn't want anyone going near the corridor, he could have simply said it was undergoing repairs. By warning them that they faced a 'a most painful death', he basically lit the flame of curiosity beneath them."

"Well that's true." Ron muttered after a moment's thought "Fred and George kept going on about how they were going to see what the fuss was about, but then Quidditch practice came up and Filch seemed to be always patrolling the corridors looking for them so they gave up."

"A good thing they DID." Hermione opined, shaking her head "No offense to your brothers Ron, but I don't think they'd have been able to keep something like Fluffy a secret for long."

"You'd be surprised." Ron muttered darkly "Those two are smarter than they look, they might enjoy acting like prats, but they've got the brains to back their mouths up, they know the secret tunnels better than FILCH I'll swear by anyone."

Herwald quirked a brow but said nothing, instead taking in the surroundings of the Gryffindor Common Room with interest. It was decidedly different from the one he was used to, with a warm, inviting air that was backed up by the normally roaring fireplace, which he suspected was regularly attended to be House Elves, as despite the hours wearing on, it remained as lively as ever.

In short, it was taking everything Herwald had to keep from drifting off to sleep then and there, for despite Hermione, Ron and Neville's friendship, he highly doubted that the other Gryffindors would welcome a Serpent in the Lion's Den, even if he WAS the supposed Boy-Who-Lived. A pity, he actually felt more at home here than among the serpents for some reason.

Eventually, despite his own resistance and the other's reluctance, Herwald made his excuses to his friends, tucking the invisibility cloak into the pocket of his robes, shaking Ron and Neville firmly by the hand, offering Hermione a bow in parting as she opened the passage for him, activating the Potter Ring once it had shut behind him, allowing him to slip back down to the dungeons without being noticed, slipping into his bed for a good long sleep, ready for the next day.

Though for some reason, beyond his comprehension, his dreams that night, normally tainted with the traditional woman's scream followed by an emerald flash, were instead dominated with a scene of lion cubs rough-housing with one another.

* * *

_Build-up to the exams..._

While Herwald was glad that Norbert, and the threats the Dragon posed, were far FAR away from Hogwarts by now, he and the others didn't have time to celebrate, as their exams weren't that far off anymore, forcing all the students, regardless of house, to bury themselves in training, sometimes so deeply it wasn't uncommon to see several different house members sitting around the same table.

Herwald, Ron, Neville and Hermione traditionally kept to themselves, however it wasn't uncommon for them to be joined by Seamus and Dean from Gryffindor, and Draco, Crabbe and Goyle from Slytherin, which while initially a tense situation, was made bearable due to Herwald's presence.

As it stood, the group had the best chances of coming top of their year, considering they had some of the top scorers among their number. Hermione was the best overall in theory and Magical History, being the only Student to actually pay attention in class, but when it came to practice, Draco far outstripped her when it came to Potions, though he knew better than to mock her for it, as she could trounce any of them in Charms. Neville, naturally, was the best, both in theory and practice, when it came to Herbology, while Herwald seemed the best overall in Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts.

To Ron, Seamus, Dean, Crabbe and Goyle, it was like a Godsend, for while they were by no means bad students, Goyle and Crabbe especially had come a long way under Herwald's tutoring, they just weren't that good at preparation. As it were, Herwald's study methods, which combined Hermione's knowledge with easier to comprehend, bite-size sectioning, soon had them pulling their skills up an additional level.

Naturally, neither Herwald nor the Gryffindor Trio spoke of the Stone in the presence of their study-mates, the less who knew the more secure it was after all, but one afternoon, a week before the exams were due to start, found Herwald walking with his fellow Slytherins back to their dorm, discussing their latest study session, Draco amazed, though he refused to admit it, with some of the ideas he and Neville had come up with regarding potions ingredients, when they heard somebody whimpering from a classroom up ahead, Herwald's eyes narrowing as his reinforced ears identified it as Quirrel.

"No...no...not again, please…" the man whimpered, Herwald's eyes narrowing as he caught a dark, threatening whisper, too low to make out, but filled with undeniable malice "All right, all right…" Quirrell sobbed, the rustling of silk following, Herwald gesturing for his fellow Slytherins to duck out of sight, just as the man came hurrying out of the classroom straightening his ridiculous turban., his face pale and on the verge of tears as he strode out of sight, the others letting out sighs of relief that he hadn't noticed them.

"What the bloody hell was THAT all about?" Draco wondered, Crabbe and Goyle shrugging unknowingly in response even as Herwald peered into the classroom the man had so hurriedly vacated "Who was he talking to?"

"No-one." Herwald muttered, scowling at the empty interior, his eyes locking onto the door at the opposite end, which stood ajar. Whoever the other voice was, they hadn't stuck around long when Quirrell had departed.

"Honestly…" the Malfoy heir muttered, "Bad enough we have a ghost for History, now the DADA Proffessor's a raving lunatic who speaks to himself in empty classrooms?" He shook his head in disgust "Father was right, I should have gone to Durmstrang."

Herwald said nothing, even after meeting up with the Gryffindor trio during their next session, nor did he give any indication that he suspected Quirrell during class, even if his mind WAS shielded from the man's view thanks to Sir Kay's ring.

He knew, from experience and Neville's hushed admittance, that Ron was an adventurous sort, eager to make a name for himself and break away from the path his brothers had blazed for him. Hermione might claim she was only interested in the scholarly side of things, but she had the typical Gryffindor love of a challenge. Even Neville, who was surprisingly a lot braver than he seemed, was professing more than a little interest in the stone now that he knew what it was the Cerberus was guarding.

Herwald didn't understand the boy's fascination with the Alchemical enhancer, but he didn't care to pry. Everyone had their skeletons in the closet after all. That being said, he couldn't condone the three getting any deeper into the world of alchemy. Professionalism aside, Alchemists and traditional Magi never really got along, he couldn't stomach the idea of them getting drawn into whatever scheme the headmaster had in place for him and getting hurt in the process.

If the old man wanted him, he'd have to work for it, but Herwald was DAMNED if he'd let the 'twinkle-eyed-schweinhund' get his fishhooks in his friends.

* * *

_Exam Day... _

Finally, the day for the end of year exams arrived, the students shuffling into the large, sweltering hot classroom where they were to complete their written papers with mixed feelings.

The Ravenclaws were confident, as always, as theory WAS their bread and butter after all, while the Hufflepuffs showed good solidarity and made a show of bucking themselves up before marching in. The Slytherins and Gryffindors eyed each other warily, but other than that ignored their rivals in favour of focussing their attention on the rolls of parchment before them, which Herwald noted with approval was accompanied by special quills, which had been bewitched with an Anti-Cheating Spell.

The Professors, naturally, oversaw all the practical exams: Professor Flitwick asked them to make a pineapple tap-dance across a desk. Professor McGonagall watched them turn a mouse into a snuffbox, giving additional points for the design on the box. Potions master Snape prowled around the edges of the class, making sure that they weren't cheating or about to do something stupid as they brewed up a Forgetfulness potion.

All this was made all the harder by the pounding headache which had been bothering Herwald for the past week or so. It was like something was pounding against his skull with a small hammer, all of which was focused on the accursed scar that adorned his forehead. Neville and Draco believed it to be nothing more than a bad case of exam nerves, the latter recommending several sleeping aides after the third night where his friend had been roused by the recurrence of the old nightmare. Herwald had accepted but in moderation, the last thing he needed was to build up a dependency to potions, which could be as devastating as Muggle sleeping pills if taken too many times in succession.

Their very last exam was History of Magic. One hour of answering questions about batty old wizards who'd invented self-stirring cauldrons, none of which was covered by Binns as it turned out, and they'd be free, free for a whole wonderful week until their exam results came out. When the ghost in question told them to put down their quills and roll up their parchment, Harry couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped his lips, though it was fortunately covered up by the cheering of the rest.

* * *

_End of the exams... _

"That was far easier than I thought it would be," Hermione noted, the Gryffindor trio joining up with their Slytherin friends, though it might be more accurate to refer to Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle as Associates, as they joined the crowds flocking out onto the sunny grounds. "I needn't have learned about the 1637 Werewolf Code of Conduct or the uprising of Elfric the Eager."

"Granger." Draco muttered, eyeing the bushy haired girl with an exasperated stare "While I appreciate your assistance in preparing for the exams, I would prefer it, immensely, if you refrained from speaking about them for the moment."

Hermione huffed, but said nothing, as Draco wasn't alone in this sentiment. Even Ron, who normally bickered with the Slytherin out of sheer principle, nodded in agreement, and so they wandered down to the lake and flopped under a tree, Crabbe and Goyle dozing gormlessly in the shade, Herwald pulling out one of his alchemical texts to read, while the others watched the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan tickling the tentacles of a giant squid, which was basking in the warm shallows.

"No more studying," Ron sighed happily, the younger redhead stretching out on the grass, eyeing Herwald in exasperation "I don't see how you can be reading now mate, I don't want to see another textbook for the rest of the year."

"I have to agree with Weasley on this one, Herwald." Draco muttered, looking decidedly uncomfortable even as he said it "I know you prefer the company of a good book, but you could at least relax a little. We've got a week before we find out the results, and I doubt even Crabbe and Goyle will have failed with the tutoring we've given them."

'For Draco that's about as close as he'll ever get to admitting he was worried for those two.' Herwald noted, chuckling to himself as he put the book down, only to grimace as the sunlight caused his headache to worsen "Scheiße!" he swore, rubbing his forehead with a scowl even as the others blinked at him in concern "Sorry, but this just isn't getting any better, reading helps take my mind off it but it won't go away."

"Go to Madam Pomfrey," Hermione suggested, the Gryffindor girl looking at the longhaired boy in concern, knowing from previous discussion that the boy's scar had hurt before, though never as badly nor for as long as this.

"I'm not ill." Herwald countered, though he did nod at her reassuringly to understand her sentiments "If anything I think it's trying to warn me…it always feels like this before something gefährlich, something dangerous, is on the way."

This wasn't an understatement; he'd had a headache like this several times before, usually after an extended session with Grandfather Jubstacheit, and during the Grail war it was a headache like THIS that awoke him just before Gilgamesh's assault on the Einzbern estate. He'd come to consider the headaches an unwanted, but not underestimated, early-warning system to threats, though considering it seemed to react to almost every suspicious character he met, including, but not limited to, Albus Dumbledore, that wasn't saying much, though it made avoiding the old twinkler all the easier.

In the end, he chose to ignore it for the moment, simply sitting back, letting the warmth of the sun and Crabbe and Goyle's snores wash over him, only half paying attention to the conversation between the others, ready to step in if Ron and Draco said something they shouldn't, only to sit up, his eyes locked instantly on the wall of the castle, drawn to a particular patch of brickwork on the third floor.

After the incident with the troll, Herwald had expected the door to the room to be restored and hadn't been disappointed, apparently Dumbledore placed the longevity of Hagrid's monstrous canine above the safety of his students, and had unsealed the door from the alchemical bindings that held it shut.

Realizing this, Herwald had, under the cover of darkness, combined alchemy and rune craft to place an added security measure on the door, a series of runes which would alert him to anyone actually ENTERRING the room, whilst allowing the teachers the ability to open it to check on Fluffy.

Someone had just entered the room, TWO persons if the feeling he was getting was accurate, and Herwald had no doubt that that someone was the thief and his accomplice. "Herwald?" Hermione wondered, looking at the boy in concern, the other's conversation trailing to a halt as they followed her gaze "is something wrong?"

"Someone just entered Fluffy's Room." Herwald muttered, ignoring the look of confusion on Draco's face and the gasps of shock from his three Gryffindor Friends as he got to his feet "We need to alert the staff…"

"Who the devil is Fluffy?" Draco demanded, the heir of House Malfoy looking between the others in confusion, his delicate brows narrowing in suspicion "Are you keeping something secret from me, Herwald?"

"Long story, tell you later." Herwald muttered, his tone grim as he surged to his feet "Basic story: There's a Cerberus guarding something for Dumbledore on the third Floor, and someone might have just made an attempt at it."

Draco's eyes widened at the mention of a Cerberus, no doubt knowing how dangerous they were to students, to anything really, before following after them, kicking Crabbe and Goyle in the shins to rouse them as they raced back into the castle "What do we do?"

"As much as hate to admit it, we need to go to Dumbledore." Herwald muttered, his lips pursing at the irony of the statement, as he'd spent most of the latter part of the entire year AVOIDING the old twinkler "Any of you know where the Headmaster's office is?"

"Fred and George might…" Ron muttered after moment, though it served no purpose as they were already well inside the building, leaving the Twins and Jordan to their merrymaking "I'll race back and ask them-!"

"What are you three doing inside?" a stern voiced asked, the Slytherins and Gryffindors whipping round to see Professor McGonagall stalking towards them, carrying a large pile of books in her arms.

"We want to see Professor Dumbledore." Hermione spoke up quickly, even as Draco, Crabbe and Goyle eyed the Gryffindor head warily, trusting her even LESS than she apparently trusted them, a sentiment that was apparently well deserved, as the woman was eyeing the group suspiciously, unable to comprehend why four Slytherins, one the boy-who-lived no less, were associating with HER Gryffindors.

"See Professor Dumbledore?" she repeated, as though this was a very fishy thing to want to do, her eyes lingering mainly on Herwald, only to flick back to Hermione after he levelled a glare of his own right back at her "I am, afraid Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago." she said coldly. "He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and flew off for London at once."

"He's _gone_?" Neville exclaimed, the round-faced Gryffindor looking frantic even as Herwald's eyes narrowed, realizing THIS was the reason for the thief's actions in broad daylight without any form of distraction "_Now?_"

"Professor Dumbledore is a very great wizard, Mr. Longbottom." McGonagall reminded the boy stiffly, though not as stiffly as when she'd been eyeing the Slytherins "He has many demands on his time…"

"But this is important!" Ron insisted, the redheaded Gryffindor waving his arms around like an idiot, drawing amazed looks from Draco, Crabbe and Goyle, who were beginning to wonder just what on earth all the fuss was about.

"Something you have to say is more important than the Ministry of Magic, Mr. Weasley?" McGonagall demanded, quirking a brow at the redhead, who flushed at her tone, clearly not forgetting the lecture she'd given him on Halloween, even as Herwald scowled.

"That depends, Professor McGonagall." The adopted Einzbern opined, stressing the woman's title to make her look at him, his accusing emerald stare holding her dark eyes in place "Is the word of an incompetent blowhard like Cornelius 'couldn't find his arsch with a point-me spell' Fudge more important than the safety of the Philosopher's stone?"

Draco blinked, gaping at his friend in surprise, while Crabbe, Goyle and Ron snorted at the insult to the Minister, even Neville chuckling in bemusement, while Hermione sent a disapproving look Herwald's way for the disrespect he was showing her head of House, though her lips DID quirk slightly.

As for McGonagall, it was clear to all that whatever she'd been expecting the Boy-who-SHOULD-Have-Been-A-Gryffindor to say, she certainly hadn't been expecting that. The books she was carrying tumbled out of her arms, but she didn't pick them up, "How do you know —?" she spluttered, staring at Herwald with a look not akin to a stunned cat.

"It wasn't that hard Professor." Herwald countered, his tone disapproving "The headmaster's indirect encouragement during the Welcome Feast aside, Hagrid, while a good man and a steadfast Groundskeeper, is HARDLY the most qualified SECRET keeper." He glared at the woman pointedly "However, that matters little, someone has just broken into the room on the third floor Corridor, and judging by the lack of screams of agony, I'm assuming they've gotten past Fluffy."

McGonagall blinked, clearly thrown by the certainty in the boy's tone, only for her eyes to narrow, eyeing him with a mixture of shock and suspicion. "I don't know how you found out about the Stone, Mr. Potter," she began "but rest assured, no one can possibly steal it, it's too well protected."

"By spells cast by yourself, our missing headmaster, and Professors Snape, Sprout, Flitwick and Quirrell, correct?" Herwald countered, his accusing emerald stare once again boring into the stunned woman's eyes "A bunch of spells which, I have little doubt, a FIRST Year student would be well acquainted with." He snorted dismissively "Well protected INDEED."

McGonagall gaped at the boy, clearly thrown by just how well informed he was of the Stone's defences, and more than a little unnerved by the look in his emerald eyes, so much like his mothers, yet missing Lily Evans' warmth "Potter, I know what I'm talking about," she said at last, though she sounded less than confident even as she bent down and gathered up the fallen books. "I suggest you all go back outside and enjoy the sunshine."

And with that she marched off, a little more quickly than she'd care to admit, feeling all the while the accusing emerald stare that bore into her back, and internally weeping that she'd failed James and Lily Potter. If they could see how their only son had turned out, they'd surely roll in their graves.

* * *

_As McGonagall stalks off... _

"Enjoy the sunshine my hoden…" Herwald muttered, staring after the Deputy Heamistress and Gryffindor Head in disgust, before turning on his heel and making for the stairs "Sod it, if you want something done right…"

"She's right you know." A smooth voice greeted, the group looking up to see Severus Snape standing at the top of the stairs "You shouldn't be inside on a day like this." he opined, eyeing Herwald in particular "You want to be more careful, the old myth regarding cats and grudges applies doubly to Feline Animagi."

"Potions Master." Herwald greeted, glad at last that they'd run into a Professor that listened to REASON, even if he tended to be bigoted regarding Gryffindors in general "Someone's broken into…!

"I overheard, Mr. Einzbern." Snape assured him, nodding his head in understanding, even as the Gryffindors blinked at his use of Herwald's family name "Rest assured, I shall send a message after the Headmaster immediately, however I must INSIST that you don't get involved any further than you already are." He eyed the Gryffindor Trio behind him "Though considering the company you keep, that might be hard going…"

Ignoring the looks Ron sent his way, the Potions Master strode off in the direction of the staffroom, leaving Draco looking decidedly confused and ANGRY. "Alright." The Malfoy heir demanded "Someone is going to tell me what the hell is going on or so Crabbe and Goyle are going to start busting heads together."

"Short version as we walk?" Herwald explained, earning a nod from his Slytherin friend as he fell into step beside him "Dumbledore's guarding the Philosopher's Stone for Nicholas Flamel. Someone in Hogwarts, possibly a staff member, is trying to steal it along with an accomplice, and I'm fairly certain the Headmaster's been trying to bait me into going after them, if his attempts at breaking past my mind's defenses and his attempts at cornering me in the library have been any indication."

"The Headmaster's been using Legilimency on you?" Draco exclaimed, even as the Gryffindors gasped in shock, Crabbe and Goyle merely blinking in surprise "That's illegal! Why didn't you tell Professor Snape?"

"The Potion's Master did the same thing the first week we were here." Herwald explained, earning a look of shock from his friend "He stopped after that, apparently he was impressed I was able to keep him out. He's certainly stopped glaring at me for simply being here."

"But what're we going to do?" Hermione fretted, the Gryffindor Girl wringing her hands in concern as they raced towards the corridor, Crabbe and Goyle bringing up the rear like an armed escort "Without Dumbledore…"

"We don't need Dumbledore." Herwald countered "I already know what to expect in terms of defenses, they're all spells which First Years would be familiar with, other than Hagrid's Cerberus, and you can deal with THOSE simply by playing some music."

"If you're expecting me to sing the infernal canine a lullaby, Herwald, you're sadly mistaken." Draco countered, looking at his friend with wry amusement as the boy blinked "Don't looked so shocked, I KNOW you Herwald you're going after the stone yourself. Well not if I have a thing to say about it, we Malfoy's don't abandon our friends lightly."

"We're in too." Ron agreed, shooting the Malfoy heir a look that was less suspicious and more inquisitive than normal "You don't think we'd let you go alone?"

"Of course not," said Hermione briskly, shaking her head as if the entire idea was laughable "How do you think you'd get to the Stone without us?"

"All for one and one for all." Neville agreed, smiling nervously "That's the Gryffindor code Herwald, we don't let our friends go into fights alone."

Crabbe and Goyle grunted and cracked their knuckles, and Herwald was surprised to see they WEREN'T glaring menacingly at the round-faced boy, but standing alongside him. It was uncanny, a band of Slytherins and Gryffindors, something that hadn't been seen since the founding he was certain, were about to face whatever challenges awaited them head on.

"A fine band of fools we are." He chuckled, shaking his head in bemusement "alright, but Gregory and Vincent will have to stand guard over the exit, just in case something happens to us, just let me fetch something from the dorms first.

* * *

Kyugan: Certainly an Unusual group, don't you think?

Spy: It IS a little different from the norm.

Demoman: entire team, is BABIES! *Pauses, points at Crabbe and Goyle* Except for those two, though I am amused they are needing two Heavies on team.

Spy: As you would, my friend. *Turns to medic* Feeling better?

Medic: Dank, Spy, when I get my hands on your contemporary...

Demoman: Ye'll have teh dig him outta the morgue, Piro and Heavy got to 'im already.

Medic: Oh? Danke, Demoman *Develops an evil grin* I do believe ze Doktor is in...

Kyugan: Before you run off, care to translate?

Medic: Certainly, ahem.

Hoden: Testicles, balls, nutsack, little soldier barracks, need I say more?

R&R!


	15. Chapter 14: Running The Gauntlet

Kyugan: And another.

Spy: Bravo! OH! Bravo!

Kyugan: Polnareff?

Spy: You were expecting Bravo?

Kyugan: Well he DID reference Polnareff in that one scene.

Heavy: *Bursts into the room* SPY! *Grabs Spy by the lapels of his suit* HELP!

Spy: Easy, EASY my large friend *Removes himself from Heavy's grip* Now, what is the problem?

Heavy: I found Doktor!

Kyugan: Really? Where is he?

Heavy: HERE! *Holds up bodybag*

Bodybag: MMPHHHMMM!

Spy: ...I have no words...

Kyugan: So that's where the other bodybag went...I thought we were one short...so what do you need help for?

Heavy: ZIPPER IS STUCK!

Spy: Alright, hang on mon ami... *pulls out knife* No, 'old VERY still...

Kyugan: Well this won't be pretty, in any case, the Wheel of Fate is Turning, let us see what the Shift in the Continuum has wrought...

* * *

Running the Gauntlet.

It took some time to backtrack to the Slytherin dorms, time that was felt by everyone, Herwald and the Slytherins racing into their room and back out again, the invisibility cloak tucked into the Adoptive Einzbern's pocket as they raced back up the corridors despite the yells of the Slytherin Prefects to go stop.

While Crabbe and Goyle were a little saddened that they wouldn't be coming down the hole with the rest, their mood was improved when Herwald told them they'd be hiding under his invisibility cloak to lay an ambush for whoever had stolen the stone. The pair, while stunned that their friend possessed such a rare gem, and even MORE so that he'd trust them with what was obviously a family heirloom, soon got over it as they came to the third-floor corridor to find the door already ajar, the room within filled with the trilling of a harp and the snores of the massive, three headed monstrosity alternatively known as Fluffy the Cerberus.

"Get under there." Herwald instructed, pulling out his cloak and gesturing for the larger boys to get under it "If anyone but us comes out of that trapdoor, curse the pants off them or wake Fluffy and slam the door shut, either way DON'T let them past you!"

"Take care mate…" Crabbe muttered, Goyle giving the smaller boy's shoulder a comradely squeeze that would've crushed a can, before they vanished beneath the cloak, crouching near the door, ready to make a swift exit if the need arose, the rest of them marching over to the trapdoor and hoisting it open

"No way of climbing down." Herwald muttered, scowling into the murky blackness beneath them in distaste, even his reinforced eyes couldn't see anything "we'll just have to drop, I'll go first."

None of the others looked particularly eager to refute this, Malfoy keeping his wand aimed at Fluffy in case the Cerberus awoke, even as Herwald lowered himself through the hole until he was hanging on by his fingertips, before letting go.

Cold, damp air rushed past Herwald as he fell into the darkness bellow, the light from the trapdoor the only thing he could see other than mirky darkness, and it was growing dimmer the longer he fell. After the first minute or so, he began to fell a little concerned, for while the corridor had been on the third floor, a drop easily manageable even by Mundanes, albeit ones with training, the basements of Hogwarts ran much lower than even the Slytherin Dungeons, from what Snape had explained, and Herwald didn't fancy his chances of surviving a multi-storey drop, even with reinforcement.

However, his fears were soon put to rest as he fell into a dark cavern, landing, with a strangely muted FLUMP, on something soft, some sort of plant by the feel of it. 'Sprout's Defense to be certain…' he muttered, eyeing the springy vegetation beneath his hands suspiciously, already struggling to get off it, you never knew with magical plants, brushing aside what appeared to be tendril as he glanced up at the distant, postage-stamp sized light that shone overhead, marvelling at how far he'd fallen.

"Herwald?" Hermione called down in concern, the Gryffindor Girl's voice tight, torn between her desire to determine his safety, and her desire to NOT be eaten by an enraged Cerberus if she could help it "Are you alright?"

"I'm okay." Herwald assured them, cupping his hands around his mouth to act like an impromptu speaking trumpet, his voice echoing around the cavern "It's a soft landing, you can jump, but get off quickly!"

They did so, Draco following last, the heir of Malfoy leaping down with a yelp, Herwald catching a parting howl from Fluffy, the Cerberus having evidently roused, apparently the charm on the harp wasn't meant to last, before the trapdoor slammed shut behind them cutting off the light with it.

"What in Merlin's name IS this stuff?" Ron demanded, the redhead's voice laced with disgust and marred by his holding his nostrils shut from the smell as he eyed the pile of vegetation they'd landed on "Some sort of compost heap?"

"Don't be daft Weasley." Draco snapped, his mouth covered with what appeared to be a silken handkerchief with his initials stitched into the corner "Whoever heard of a compost heap INSIDE the castle?"

"It's not that uncommon actually." Hermione countered knowingly "In the old days before plumbing, all the waste used to travel down the chutes to the lower part of the castle, it used to be part of the student's jobs to muck them out."

"You're JOKING." Draco stammered, the Malfoy heir's eyes wide, and even in the dim light, Herwald spotted the paleness of his face at the idea of shovelling other people's waste "They wouldn't have allowed that!"

"Actually, they did." Herwald countered, having also read Hogwarts a History, the self-updating, unabridged version that was only available in the restricted section of the library that is "It was actually one of the few things Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor agreed on. Taught students to be humble and not get ahead of themselves." He nodded knowingly "It was a common punishment to force them to do so without magic."

"You mean they had to sort all this by HAND." Ron stammered, the redhead looking horrified at the idea of handling someone else's…LEAVINGS…with his bare hands "Glad I wasn't born back then…"

"You and me BOTH Weasley." Draco muttered, moving to get off the pile, only to curse as his legs get tangled in snakelike tendrils which had sprung to life the moment the trapdoor had shut above "What the devil-?"

"MOVE!" Herwald snarled, reaching out and grabbing Hermione and Neville, the closest to him, and hauling them off the pile with surprising strength, dragging them towards a distant, moss covered wall while Draco and Ron struggled to free their legs drawing their wands only for creepers to rise up around their arms and hold fast.

"Stop moving!" Neville exclaimed, the round-faced Gryffindor's voice tight with terror, though it seemed to grow calmer the more he stared at the creature "You're only making it excited! That's a devil's snare, it thinks you're prey!"

"Oh, I'm so glad we know what it's called, that's a great help," Ron snarled, the redhead leaning back in an attempt to keep the plant from curling around his neck "Hurry up and kill the damn thing!"

"Do we have to kill it?" Neville countered, looking torn between concern for his friends and the plant that was slowly winding around them hungrilly "I mean, it's not IT'S fault were landed on it, it's only doing what nature intended."

"Longbottom so help me if you let this plant turn me into fertilizer I'm coming back and HAUNTING you for the rest of your natural life!" Malfoy snapped, looking furious as he struggled to free his wand arm from the plant "And when you finally bite the dust I'm going to make your afterlife a living hell!"

"Err…right…killing it is then…" Neville stammered, looking away hurriedly, his face so pink from embarrassment Hermione couldn't help but titter nervously "Well I know that they love dark and damp places…"

"So light a fire!" Draco choked, the Devil's Snare having wrapped a tendril around his neck when he wasn't looking, Ron slapping it aside clumsily in the dark, earning a glare from the Malfoy heir as it left a bruise.

"But there's no wood!" Hermione cried, the witch wringing her hands in a mild sense of panic, only to blink as she turned to find Herwald and Neville blinked at her in shocked exasperation "What?"

"HAVE YOU GONE MAD WOMAN?" the captives bellowed, their heads somehow enlarging to gargantuan proportions in the dim light of the chamber as they glared venomously at the girl for her mental slip "ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?"

"Oh, right!" Hermione exclaimed, Herwald suppressing the urge to snicker t how pink her cheeks had turned in the darkness as she whipped out her wand, waving it and muttering something under her breath that sent a jet of bluebell flames fling from the tip towards the plant, which shuddered at the touch, letting out a low keening noise. In a matter of seconds, Draco and Ron were released from its grasp, the two boys shaking themselves to be rid of any remaining presence of the thing even as it cringed away from the light and warmth, allowing them to stagger away from it.

"A damn good thing you were here Longbottom…" Malfoy muttered, shooting a dark look at the retreating plant, even as Neville flushed at the compliment "Bloody thing could've strangled us to death otherwise."

"Tell me about it…" Ron agreed, the redhead glaring as well, though his was directed at Hermione, who had the decency to blush "And a damn good thing Herwald doesn't lose his head in a crisis…'there's no wood!' _honestly_."

"That's enough." Herwald reprimanded, though he had to admit it was amusing to watch Hermione, for all her smarts, being on the receiving end of a lecture for once, it was almost karmic really "C'mon, I think I can see an exit this way." He instructed, pointing down a stone passageway, which was the only way forward.

* * *

_The second Gauntlet..._

The only sound they could hear apart from their footsteps was the gentle drip of water trickling down the walls, the only light the dim glow of the Lumos spell from the tip of their wands. The passageway sloped downward, reminding Herwald faintly of Gringotts, his brow twitching as he recalled how the goblins used Dragons to guard the higher-security vaults. Norbert had been bad enough, but knowing Dumbledore's lack of common sense, he wouldn't put it past the old man to have the Dragon's mother down here; it would certainly explain where the thief or their accomplice had acquired the egg in the first place.

"Can you hear something?" Ron whispered, snapping Herwald out of his musings, the Einzbern promptly reinforcing his ears, eyes narrowing as he picked up a soft rustling and clinking seemed to be coming from up ahead, lik the sound of wings ruffling and keys clashing against one another. "Do you think it's a ghost?"

"The only ghost I know with chains is Peeves." Draco countered, his tone grim as he narrowed his eyes "And he only uses those around Halloween for extra kicks, otherwise the Baron makes him lock them away."

"It sounds like wings to me…" Herwald muttered, causing Neville to tense, as there were quite a few monstrosities out there with wings, and none of them were plants "There's light ahead, I can see something moving."

They reached the end of the passageway and saw before them a brilliantly lit chamber, its ceiling arching high above them. It was full of small, jewel-bright birds, fluttering and tumbling all around the room. On the opposite side of the chamber was a heavy wooden door. "Do you think they'll attack us if we cross the room?" Ron asked, eyeing the numerous, glittering birds warily, shaking Neville's arm off irritably as the round-faced boy huddled closer.

"Probably." Herwald muttered, the adopted Einzbern glaring at the birds suspiciously, reinforcing his eyes, only to blink as he realized they were, in fact, winged keys "Was zur Hölle? Flying keys?"

"Keys?" Draco repeated, blinking in confusion, the Malfoy Heir following Herwald's gaze only to blink once more "Merlin's beard, he's right!" he exclaimed, stepping out of the entryway for a better look at their winged watchers "They must be charmed to fly."

"This must be Flitwick's Trial then." Herwald reasoned, his tone grim as he stepped out into the corridor, eyeing the charmed keys warily in case they DID try to attack, only to reach the door on the other side unmolested. Half-expecting the answer, he reached for the handle of the door, only to find it was, indeed locked.

"Can't you use your Alchemy Herwald?" Neville asked, the roundfaced Gryffindor looking at the boy inquisitively even as Ron and Malfoy struggled to pull the door open "Like you did with Norbert's chest?"

"It wouldn't do any good." Herwald countered, pointing to the door as he spoke "Flitwick's probably charmed this thing to repel any attempt to open it without the right key. When I touched the door I was actually testing it with Alchemy, the door's so saturated with magic the rebound could take my arm off."

"Great..." Ron muttered, the redhead wincing at the graphic imagery even as Hermione gave up on trying her Alohomora charm, which failed to do much of anything "What're we supposed to do then?"

"Well if I had to wager a guess, I'd say we had to find the key to the door." Draco muttered snidely, pointing up at the winged keys above them "There's no way in hell Flitwick charmed a bunch of keys to fly just for the hell of it."

"He's right!" Hermione insisted, the brunette getting between the blonde and redhead whilst pointing at something across the room from the door "Look, Broomsticks! We've got to catch the key to the door!"

"But there are _hundreds _of them!" Neville exclaimed, Herwald quirking an eye at the multitude of winged keys, even as the Ron turned to examine the lock on the door, a frown on his freckled face.

"We're looking for a big, old-fashioned one." The redhead muttered, his brow furrowed as he leant close to the lock "probably silver, like the handle."

Draco nodded, the two boys racing off, each seizing a broomstick before turning to the others, who remained clustered around the door, Neville looking uncertain, while Hermione was eyeing Herwald, who'd turned back to it with a scowl "You coming or what?"

"Offen." Herwald commanded, pointing the Ring of Kay at the door, his brow furrowed and his muscles relaxed, the better to leap back if something went wrong.

For a moment, nothing happened, and then, with a grinding of gears, almost as if they were resisting his command, the lock clicked open, the door swinging open with a decidedly sullen air, like a child that had been forced to do something it hated.

"How did you…" Hermione exclaimed, looking at the boy in surprise, even as he tucked the rings out of sight, Draco, Ron and Neville looking just as stunned.

"I have a certain way with locked doors." Herwald replied, smiling suggestively, even as he gripped the door frame, which had tried to swing closed when they weren't looking, holding it open "No time for that, get through NOW."

The others raced past, Herwald slipping after them as the door slammed shut behind them, cutting off the light once more, though he was pleased to note that, despite the churning of the gears, the door lock refused to budge.

* * *

_The Third Gauntlet... _

The next chamber was so dark they couldn't see anything at all, but before they could think to use Lumos, it suddenly filled with light, so suddenly, in fact, that Herwald swore as his reinforced eyesight was assaulted, taking several seconds to recover, only to frown at the sight before him.

They were standing on the edge of a huge chessboard, behind the black chessmen, which were all taller than they were and carved from what looked like black stone. Facing them, way across the chamber, were the white pieces, which to the other's discomfort, were bereft of faces one would normally expect in a Wizarding chess set.

"Now what do we do?" Neville stammered, looking around the room nervously, clearly out of his element, while Draco glared at the faceless chessmen as well as one could when faced with an opponent with no discernable features.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Ron muttered, looking around at the chessboard with growing confidence, as Chess WAS his element "We've got to play our way across the room."

It certainly made sense to Herwald, who had spotted the door behind the white pieces the moment his eyes had recovered from the blinding light. It was, in a way, a rather ingenious use of Transfiguration, especially when you considered how murderous Wizarding Chess pieces were.

In the end, Ron, who was arguably the better chess player, even Draco was forced to conceded THAT to the redhead, picked the pieces out for them. Herwald and Draco took the place of the Bishops, Hermione and Neville became castles, while Ron became a Knight, the respective chessmen turning their backs on their white-clad enemies and walking off the board, leaving five empty spaces which the Hogwarts Students took.

"White always plays first in chess." Ron muttered, more for Neville and Hermione's benefit, as both Draco and Herwald were familliar with the game, his declaration confirmed when a white pawn had moved forward two squares.

With this confirmation that the game was to be played by the traditional rules, Ron started to direct the black pieces which moved silently wherever he sent them "Herwald." He called out, catching the stand-in bishop's attention "Move diagonally four squares to the right."

Herwald did so, eyeing the white pieces warily for any signs of treachery, but the seemed to be following the rules as well. He didn't doubt for a second, however, that the moment any of them tried to break for the exit, they'd be lynched.

Their first real shock came when their other knight was taken, the white queen smashed him to the floor and dragged him off the board, where he lay quite still, facedown. "Had to let that happen," said Ron, looking shaken, as did Malfoy, who'd argued over taking the other knight's place not long ago "Leaves you free to take that bishop, Hermione, go on."

Every time one of their men was lost, the white pieces showed no mercy. Soon there was a huddle of limp black players slumped along the wall. Twice, Ron only just noticed in time that his friends were in danger, Draco's badgering wasn't helping matters, and it took Harry's insistence to keep the boy from making moves of his own. To make up for this, Ron darted around the board, taking almost as many white pieces as they had lost black ones.

"We're nearly there," the redhead muttered after several minutes, hi brows furrowed in thought as he eyed the board carefully "Let me think…let me think…" he shivered as the white queen turned her blank face toward him, though Herwald detected a light of understanding in his eyes "Yes…" he muttered softly "It's the only way…I've got to be taken."

"NO!" Neville and Hermione shouted, and even though he knew what the redhead was about to suggest, Herwald couldn't help clenching his fists, nor could he keep from biting his lip in anger.

"That's chess!" snapped Ron, using anger to cover his terror "You've got to make some sacrifices! I make my move and she'll take me…" he couldn't supressed the nervous gulp that his admittance inspired "that leaves you free to checkmate the king, Harry!"

Herwald nodded, there was no need for words, he knew that and so, apparently, did Ron. The thieves after the stone already had a head start, no point in making things any easier on them.

"Ready?" Ron called, his face pale but determined s he stared down the white queen "Here I go…" he muttered, glaring over his shoulder at the group "Now, don't hang around once you've won."

He stepped forward, and the white queen pounced, striking the redhead hard across the head with her stone arm, sending him crashing to the floor. Hermione screamed but stayed on her square, looking on in horror, along with a petrified Neville, as the white queen dragged Ron to one side. Even Draco looked stunned by the redhead's sacrifice, his pale face lined with disbelief as he gaped at the boy that he, despite his own reluctance and hesitance, had come to consider a friend.

Herwald, his face colder than a winter in the Black Forest, his eyes like frosty emeralds in his face, stepped three spaces to the left, the white King reaching up to remove his crown, only for the youth to grab it's featureless face with his right hand, his destructive array igniting, the King's head exploding into marble shards even as the chessmen parted and bowed, leaving the door ahead clear.

* * *

_As the dust settles..._

"Neville…" the Adopted Einzbern called out, his back to his friends even as he glared at the door before him, the remains of the King shuffling off to join the other pieces to the side "Take Ron with you and head up to the hospital wing, use one of those brooms to get out of the room with the devil's snare."

"S-Sure Herwald…" the round-faced Gryffindor stammered, eyeing his Slytherin friend even as he scuttled over to Ron, who he was relieved to note was still alive, and slinging him over his shoulder "We'll be back with help!"

"Just see to Ron." Herwald barked, still glaring at the door, waiting for Neville's burdened footsteps to scamper off, before speaking again "You two should go back too."

"Like hell I will Herwald." Draco countered, his tone defiant, if shaky, even as he eyed his friend warily from the side "Weasley will be fine, he has a hard head after all, but he'll murder BOTH of us if he finds out we let you go on by yourself."

Herwald eyed the Slytherin boy, his gaze travelling slowly to Hermione, who looked terrified but determined, her resolve clear in her eyes "On your own heads be it then." He muttered, leading the way to the door and up the next passageway at a run, a cold fire burning in the pit of his stomach as he ran through the challenges in his mind.

'We've had Sprout's, Flitwick's and McGonagall's.' he muttered, his features hardening at the mention of the Transfiguration Mistress, vowing to have words with her if Ron didn't recover from his attack 'That leaves Quirrell, Snape, and whatever the hell Dumbledore managed to come up with."

They came to another door, and this time Herwald didn't even bother to open it, instead he just lashed out with his reinforced foot and sent it flying off it's hinges, much to the shock of Draco and Hermione.

"Herwald! What-the-URGH!" Draco swore, his silken handkerchief coming out once more as a disgusting smell assaulted their nostrils, Herwald's eyes narrowing coldly as he recognized the smell, his suspicions confirmed as the groups watery eyes landed on the massive shape laid out flat on the floor, a troll even larger than the one he'd killed to rescue Hermione, just as DEAD as the last one too, though it's body was still relatively intact, and it had clearly done some damage judging by the blood staining it's club.

"I'm glad we didn't have to fight that one." Hermione whispered, eyeing the troll warily even as they tiptoed carefully over one of its massive legs, only to blink as she caught Herwald staring at it coldly "Herwald? Is something wrong?"

"Just putting the last of the pieces together Hermione…" the Einzbern muttered, his tone cold enough t send shivers down their spines "It certainly explains how a troll made it into the castle on Halloween…"

He refused to elaborate further, instead pulling the next door open, the trio stepping through ready for whatever was thrown at them, only to blink at the sight of a table with seven differently shaped bottles standing on it in a line.

"This must be Professor Snape's." Draco muttered, his tone confident even as he stepped over the threshold, followed hesitantly by Herwald and Hermione, jolting slightly as two fires, one purple and one black, appeared in the two doorways leading out of the room "Definitely Professor Snape's, my guess is the contents of one of the bottles will allow us to pass."

He turned to the table and picked up a roll of paper lying next to the bottles and reading it "Another of his blasted riddles." He cursed "I HATE when he springs them on me, I can never tell if I've given the right answer or not."

"_Brilliant_." Hermione sighed, the Slytherin boys turning to see she was, despite the stress that had surely built up over the past while, smiling "This isn't magic, it's a logic puzzle. A lot of the greatest wizards haven't got an ounce of logic, they'd be stuck in here forever."

"So what you're saying it's purely a deductive process?" Draco demanded, quirking a brow at the Gryffindor Girl, though he looked less annoyed and more intrigued "That…actually makes a lot of sense."

"Of course it does." Hermione insisted, tapping the paper in his hands "Everything we need is here on this paper. Seven bottles: three are poison; two are wine; one will get us safely through the black fire, and one will get us back through the purple."

"Well that narrows the choices down…" Draco muttered, his brows furrowing as he eyed the bottles before him carefully "Let's see, neither giant nor dwarf…Death obviously refers to the poison, so the two large bottles are clearly the wine."

"Right." Hermione agreed, glancing at the paper again as she walked up and down the line of bottles, pointing at them as she passed "Which means the three alongside them must be poison. Going by that process it's safe to assume the smallest bottle will get us through the black fire, towards the stone, while the round bottle at the end will get us back through the Black fire."

"Granger I could kiss you." Draco muttered, missing the look on the Gryffindors face as he scooped up the smallest bottle, popping it open and taking a cautious sniff of the contents "Smells like ice, some sort of cooling potion obviously, I would reckon the other would contain the same."

"There's only enough for one of us to advance though." Hermione noted, looking between the tiny bottle and Herwald in concern "Barely enough for one swallow."

"You drink the other one and go back." Herwald ordered, his tone brooking no argument "Get back and use the other brooms in the flying-key room, then go straight to Professor McGonagall and Potions Master Snape, either get them to tell Dumbledore to get his lemon-sucking asch back here NOW, or drag them here by the noses, I don't care which."

"Charging in without backup, Herwald?" Draco asked, the heir of Malfoy's tone laced with bemusment, though there was concern in his eyes as he turned to his friend "How very Gryffindor of you."

"I'll try not to make it a habit." Herwald assured the other Slytherin, the two gripping hands as Draco handed the potion over, only to blink as Hermione threw herself at him, hugging him close "Hermione?"

"You're a great wizard Herwald…" the girl stammered, pulling back to reveal a trembling lip and eyes that were threatening to tear up "You really are something else."

"I'm not all that great." Herwald countered, a little thrown by the girl's display, "I'm a student here like everyone else, I just have a little more practical experience than some."

"Practical experience he says…" Draco muttered, snorting mockingly as he shook his head at his friend's words "Herwald I've seen you do things which would've earned you an order of Merlin EASILY despite being a first year. Whatever practical experience you have, I don't think I care to experience it myself."

"Wise choice." Herwald uttered, patting Hermione one last time before pushing her back, the Gryffindor girl dapping at her eyes as he held up the other potion "Go on, get out of here."

"Ladies first." Draco insisted, offering the larger of the two smallest bottles to Hermione, who accepted it, smiling weakly at the Slytherin who chose not to comment on her display of emotion, though he DID look on carefully as she shuddered after taking a long drink from the round bottle at the end.

"It's alright…" she assured them, smiling shakily even as her breath escaped in vapour clouds, as if she'd stepped into a freezer "It's not poison, but it's like ice."

"Quick." Herwald ordered, nodding to Draco, who took swig of the remainder of the potion, causing him to shiver in turn "Go, before it wears off."

"Don't you die in there Herwald." Draco ordered, glaring at the boy "If it comes between you and the Stone destroy the damned thing and be done with it."

"I'll keep that in mind." Herwald replied snidely, idly wondering if he could do so if placed in such a scenario "Now GO!"

Draco nodded, placing a bracing arm over Hermione's shoulder, before leading the girl through the purple fire, their forms visible in the flames, before passing through unharmed.

* * *

Spy: Well, that was certainly moving.

Heavy: Why were only the babis sent to fight?

Kyugan: Needed someone to watch Fluffy, and let's face it, study booster aside, Crabbe and Goyle couldn't have handled the trials.

Spy: True, though they DO make good bouncers.

Medic: Hmm...a heavy with Stealth cpability...the potential for destruction!

Heavy: BAH! Real men do not need to hide like cowards!

Kyugan: you could steal the Blue Heavy's sandwiches and no-one would notice.

Heavy: *Grabs Spy by the collar* GIVE ME YOUR INVISIBILITY WATCH!

Spy: Okay, okay! *Hands it over*

Heavy: *Puts it on, presses button and vanishes* DAHAHAHA! I'M COMING COWARDS!

Medic: Vat have ve done?

Spy: You're just lucky I have a spare *puts on limited edition watch* now read the damn translation already.

Medic: Ja.

Offen: Open.

Asch: Ass, backside, posterior, booty (wawiyah).

R&R!


	16. Chapter 15: Quirrel, Stone & Mirror

Kyugan: One more to go.

Soldier: FINALLY! Was wondering when we'd get to the action!

Spy: Philistine, you have no appreciation for the plot.

Soldier: Plot schmot! It's that snape feller! Has to be!

Spy: The same snape that went to send a letter to Dumbledore when Herwald FIRST sensed something was wrong?

Soldier: Don't you back-talk me maggot! I'll have your mask-!

THUNK!

Heavy: *Glaring down at Soldier's helmet, having driven the man into the ground with his fist* Soldier no ruin story!

Spy: Nicely done mon ami.

Kyugan: Indeed now that that's settled, the Wheel of Fate is Turning, let us see what the Shift in the Continuum has wrought...

* * *

The Quirrell, The stone and The Mirror.

Herwald watched his friends pass through the fire unmolested, his eyes never leaving their backs until he was certain they'd disappeared back the way they'd come. The minute he was certain they were gone, he took a deep breath to centre his nerves, before taking a deep breath, scooping up the smallest bottle and turning to face the Black flames barring his path, his emerald eyes as cold as ice.

"Here I come you bastard…" he growled, draining the little bottle in one gulp, grimacing as, just as Hermione described, what felt like ice flooded through his veins, his breath rising from hi lips in a vapour cloud that reminded him more than a little of whenever he'd traversed the deserted stone halls of the Einzbern castle as a child.

He resisted the urge to toss the bottle aside, whoever came after him would no doubt need its contents and Snape had obviously placed a refilling charm on the bottle that took effect whenever the room was empty, but only just. His anger was struggling against his control but like his breath it was cold, cold as frozen steel, the alchemist in training stepping towards the black fire blocking his path determinedly, not even flinching as the flames reached out to caress his skin.

It was a rather strange sensation, to be immersed in fire and yet to not feel heat nor pain. He could feel, dimly, the touch of the flames flickering against his skin, but it was as if someone was running fine silk over his body, a silken sheet that was obscuring his vision, presenting a wall of darkness that refused to let up for a second, long enough that Herwald began to wonder whether this was the last trap, that the potion would give out before he reached the exit, only to suddenly step out through to the other side, his eyes blinking at the return of the light, taking in his surroundings, before narrowing coldly as he espied the person waiting for him in the last chamber.

"Guten Tag, Professor Quirrell." He greeted, his tone laced with mock politeness as he glared at the turbanned man's back, an equally cold smile forming on his face as the man whipped round to face him in shock "Didn't keep you waiting, did I?"

"Potter!" the turbaned teacher barked, and Herwald wasn't really surprised to see the man's stutter was gone, his normally twitching features controlled, though set in a mask of surprise at being caught out, only to smile, a decidedly ugly leer that reminded Herwald of a weasel, or a stoat, the kind that thought they could get away with anything "I wondered whether I'd be meeting you here, Potter."

"How could I possibly miss the chance?" Herwald replied, spreading his arms wide "I mean, you all but sent me a verdammt gilded invitation."

"Oh?" Quirrell demanded, and for a moment he seemed perplexed, apparently he'd been expecting something other than this cocky, confident young man "You make it sound as if you were expecting me, I would have thought you suspected Severus."

"Yes, you DID make a very convincing idiot." Herwald applauded, smirking as the man's eye twitched beneath his turban "Though honestly, if you were trying for believable, you should have stopped before the stutter. While Potions Master Snape's flair for theatrics suits him, I'm afraid no-one bought your little stuttering act for a moment."

"The faculty seemed to find it believing enough." Quirrell shot back, his tone defensive even as he sneered at the boy-who-lived-to-annoy-crazy-dark-wizards "Except, of course, dear Severus, he always WAS a cut above the rest."

"Slytherin is the house of the cunning." Herwald shot back, his tone laced with dry, mocking humour as he watched the man's hands, ready to lunge aside at the first hint of a wand "I dare say a man that rose to become HEAD of the Serpent's nest would be able to see through such a shoddily crafted illusion."

"Yes…" Quirrell hissed, his eye definitely twitching now as he glared at the boy "We were all RATHER surprised to see you sorted into Slytherin, Mr. Potter. Everyone believed you'd be the Golden-Boy of Gryffindor, Albus had so many plans for you."

"I can't say I feel remotely sorry for whoever was stupid enough to believe I didn't have ambitions of my own." Herwald countered, his tone dismissively cordial, though his emerald eyes shone with a cold intensity "And as for the Headmaster, he has more than enough on his plate cleaning after FUDGE's messes without dragging me into HIS."

"How very droll." Quirrell muttered, snapping his fingers, Herwald, not expecting the man to be competent enough in wandless magic, cursed as ropes sprang out of thin air and wrapped themselves tightly around him, his arms held behind his back.

"Don't bother trying to break your way out of those Potter." Quirrell shot, a smug little sneer adorning his face as he watched the boy struggle, before whipping out his wand and casting 'Levicorpus!', causing Herwald's body to hover a foot off the ground "I don't know what kind of magic you used to kill my troll on Halloween, but I doubt you'll be willing to risk taking yourself out in the process." He smiled confidently "Yes, as you no doubt can tell, I have a special gift with trolls…"

"Clearly not much of one if those rejects were the best you could coerce into going along with this little farce of yours." Herwald shot back, his tone equally mocking as he cut the little sycophant off mid praise "And judging by the way you're favouring your right leg, I'd say they don't think much of YOU either."

"Yes, I'll admit the one in the chamber was NOT very willing to let me pass…" Quirrell muttered, grimacing as he avoided putting pressure on his injured leg "I really should have waited for dark, it would've been more agreeable after a full days rest. Unfortunately, it would appear your precious year of head shares your suspicion of me, at least enough that he refused to let me out of his sight from that moment on."

"A watched cauldron will never overflow." Herwald quoted, sneering at the turbaned twit even as he struggled to work something out of his sleeve "Basic rule of potions making, it's only common sense to watch something until you're sure it's not about to take your nose off."

"And a very large schnozz our dear Severus has." Quirrell quipped darkly, sneering at the boy, not liking the lack of fear in his eyes one bit, before waving a hand dismissively as he turned back to face the object he'd been examining earlier "Now, wait quietly, Potter. I need to examine this interesting mirror."

* * *

_As Quirrel turns his back... _

Herwald scowled, taking advantage of Quirrell's distraction to redouble his efforts to break his restraints, mentally cursing himself for not using his alchemy the moment he walked into the room. For all his bragging at seeing through Quirrell's act of incompetence, he'd let the man get the drop on him.

While he did this, he turned his attention to the Mirror Quirrell was examining. It was a magnificent mirror, large enough that he had little doubt it would reach from floor to ceiling in Shirou's living room, quite possibly even some of the classrooms here, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet.

As he turned to get a better look, he espied what appeared to be an inscription engraved into the gold around the top, his eyes narrowing as he pumped Od into them reinforcing them to make out the eldritch words. 'Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi…' he muttered, running the words over and over in his mind with a frown 'I show not your face but your heart's desire?'

"This mirror is the key to finding the Stone," Quirrell murmured, clearly wanting the boy to understand the importance of the oversized beautification tool, tapping his way around the frame with his wand, as if searching for secret runes "Trust Dumbledore to come up with something like this…" he muttered bitterly, even as that dark, sickly leer from before slid across his face again "but he's in London, and I'll be far away by the time he gets back…"

'You'll be six feet under in various assorted pieces by the time I'm through with you.' Herwald vowed, his eyes narrowing as he renewed his attempts to break his bindings, wishing like hell he hadn't sent the Knife he used on Halloween to Shirou, even as Quirrell came back out from behind the mirror, staring hungrily into its reflective surface.

"I see the Stone…" he whispered, his eyes locked onto whatever fantasy the spell placed on the mirror had cooked up to torment his twisted mind "I'm presenting it to my master…"he scowled as he poked the glass with his wand once more "but where is it?"

"Probably in the place you least expect." Herwald quipped, his tone decidedly smug "For all you know Dumbledore keeps it tucked under his beard on a chain, if it were ME I'd certainly never let someone as incompetent as you anywhere NEAR the stone's defences."

"Shut your damned mouth POTTER!" Quirrell hissed, glaring venomously at the Einzbern, his wand in his hand poised to curse "Arrogant and mouthing off to your betters, just like your father." He sneered at the boy "Oh yes, your dear beloved Father, did you know what a complete and absolute BASTARD he was? Oh the stories Severus could tell you, he was a classmate with the man don't you know. Oh how they LOATHED one another, quite frankly I wouldn't be surprised if Severus passed that hatred on to you…"

"How very fortunate for ME, that Potions Master Snape is NOT an immature young schoolboy with a habit of blaming others for the sins of the past." Herwald countered, his tone decidedly smug "I dare say he would have made his displeasure known to me by now if he considered me James Potter's son when I for one certainly don't." he smiled at Quirrell's look of shock "What, surprised? I don't even remember what the man looks like, you think I give a rats asch for whatever grudges he might have had?"

"So his death means nothing to you?" Quirrell demanded, looking at the boy coldly "The fact the Dark Lord took him and your mother from you means nothing?"

"So far as I'M concerned they avenged themselves rather well back then." Herwald countered, shrugging as best he could restrained as he was "I mean honestly, you don't REALLY believe a baby, not even a year old, killed a so-called Dark Lord that had terrorized the British Isles for years?"

"So you deny any involvement in the Dark Lords fall?" Quirrell demanded, and for some reason he sounded almost angry with the way things were turning out "You deny it was YOU who struck him down?"

"So far as I'm concerned, either he offed himself or the Potters took him out with a kamikaze attack." He smirked at the man's confusion "Sorry, forgot you inbred Englander Magi lacked modern dictionary skills, Kamikaze is slang for 'suicide', though it's literal translation is 'God Wind' in Japanese."

"BAH! What do foreign Magi know?" Quirrell snarled, glaring at the boy in disgust, displaying the typical British Wizarding arrogance in regards to foreign competition "A bunch of charlatans and entrails-readers, they know nothing of REAL power!"

"They know enough to keep from sobbing to themselves in supposedly empty classrooms." Herwald quipped, sneering as Quirrell's head whipped back towards him so fast he swore he heard the man's neck snap "I heard you a few days ago, sobbing your eyes out, it was quite possibly the most pathetic thing I'd ever heard."

Rather than being angry, Herwald was surprised to see a spasm of fear flit across Quirrell's face, the man's free hand rising to stroke his turban tenderly, as if trying to soften a previous injury. "Sometimes," he whispered, his tone revenant "I find it hard to follow my master's instructions…" he shuddered, though the look of awe on his face was apparent "he is a great wizard and I am weak…"

"Ah yes, your mysterious partner in crime." Herwald noted, his tone mocking "I suspected you had someone helping you out after listening in on you little crying session in the classroom, I highly doubted someone like YOU could come with such a 'daring' heist on your own, but couldn't decide whether they were a 'silent partner' or someone who only stepped in when they were sure no-one was around." He smiled mockingly "So where is this Organ-Schleifer? I'd like to complain about his monkey's performance."

"You will watch your tongue Potter or I will cut it out of your fool head!" Quirrell snarled, pointing his wand at the boy with a trembling hand, his eyes laced with fury "My master is with me wherever I go, he hears what I hear, sees what I see, so as to better guide me in his service!"

'Astral Possession?' Herwald muttered, frowning in thought as he glared at the clearly unhinged Professor warily 'And a pretty intense one at that, it's already having an adverse effect on his mind…not that he had much of one to begin with mind you...'

"I met him when I travelled around the world." Quirrell intoned, his voice lowering reverently as he recalled the meeting with his elusive master "A foolish young man I was then, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil." He smiled darkly at the boy "Lord Voldemort showed me how wrong I was. There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it."

* * *

_As Quirrel rants on..._

Herwald scowled at the name, the name of the man that killed the Potters, the name of the man he'd supposedly killed himself as a baby, the name of the man, in short, who was responsible for his life turning out as it had. He honestly didn't know whether to thank the man or finish whatever was started that Halloween night ten years ago, but it would seem the Dark Lord was still alive as Dumbledore believed, so the old twinkler just might not be as insane as Grandfather believed.

"Since then, I have served him faithfully." Quirrell continued, wincing slightly as he once again reached up to stroke his turban tentatively "Although I have let him down many times. He has had to be very hard on me." he shivered suddenly. "He does not forgive mistakes easily. When I failed to steal the stone from Gringotts, he was most displeased. He punished me… decided he would have to keep a closer watch on me…"

He trailed off, lost in some dark, unforgettable memory that seemed to cause him some mental distress, before cursing under his breath and turning back to the mirror "I don't understand…" he swore, glaring into the reflective surface "is the Stone inside the mirror? Should I break it?"

"Oh yes," Herwald muttered sarcastically snorting in disdain "break the magical mirror that contains a priceless alchemical artefact capable of defying all the laws of equivalent exchange." He sneered at the look of shock on the man's face, clearly Quirrell didn't know HALF of what his master was sending him to fetch "Go right ahead, if the combined backlash alone doesn't kill you, not to mention take out half the verdammt castle, your master should be MOST happy to finish the job."

"Shut UP Potter!" Quirrell snarled, whipping his and out, cancelling the 'Levicorpus', Herwald's body crashing painfully onto the ground, his bones jarring from the impact even as Quirrell marched over and proceeded to kick him savagely in the stomach.

'Pussy…' Herwald mocked, refusing to grunt in pain as the man surely wanted, in truth he'd received far worse than the pitiful little man could hope to offer 'That's right, march away…' he sneered, watching as Quirrell turned back to the mirror, his fingers reaching tentatively towards the rocky floor 'Don't mind me…I'm just the boy that KILLED your master the first time round…'

"What does this mirror do?" Quirrell fretted growing increasingly more desperate as he continued to find no answer as time wore on "How does it work? Help me, Master!"

And to Herwald's shock, a voice answered, and the voice seemed to come from Quirrell himself, or more accurately, from the back of the man's head. "The boy…" it hissed, a raspy, half dead rattle that reminded him of many a man's last breath "Use the boy…"

"Yes…" Quirrell agreed, the possessed professor rounding on the boy, his eyes lit with a manic determination "Potter, come here." He ordered, clapping his hands once, the ropes that bound Herwald falling limply off his frame.

The moment they fell however, Herwald acted, hurling the stone throwing dagger he'd created when Quirrell was too busy examining the mirror at the man's head, the Wizard stumbling backwards in alarm, tripping over the edge of his cloak and going down with a scream.

Herwald didn't end things there either, before the older Magus could so much as curse, he'd already slapped his left palm onto the stone floor of the chamber, his emerald eyes flashing as he sent a surge of Prana into the ground, stone restraints rising up to hold Quirrell down, the possessed man crying out in alarm as his wand hand was encased in the animated stone, which froze as swiftly as it came to life, causing him unspeakable agony as the bones in his hand were pulped.

"Oh shut your whining." Herwald snapped, looking at the older Magus in disgust as the turbanned twit howled and wailed like a struck child "All I did was crush your verdammt hand, you still have spare, consider yourself lucky."

"You BRAT!" Quirrell snarled, his eyes full of madness, hate and fear as he glared at the boy who was even now walking towards him, struggling madly to escape from his confines "How dare you! How DARE you do this to me!"

"Shut up." Herwald countered, grabbing a metal brazier with his left hand, scowling slightly, before changing it into a sabre, the long, military-style blade glinting in the torchlight as he gave it an experimental wave to check the weight "You should be proud, you made the same mistake your illustrious master did…I suppose the old saying is true a pet resembles it's master…what a pitiful creature this Voldemort must be."

"Don't you dare speak about my master like that!" Quirrell snarled, struggling against his restraints with pathetic effort, doing little more than cause himself more undue suffering "He's a great man! He's the one who will lead the Pure-Bloods back to their proper place in society-!"

He trailed off with a scream as Herwald, with an expression that was dangerously cold, stabbed him in the knee with the sabre, giving the weapon a little twist for added effect, before tugging it out, a trail of blood following in its wake.

"Shut up." The boy ordered, stamping on the man's stomach with his foot, Quirrell's screams turning to choked sobs as the air was forced out of his body "You think I CARE for your thoughts on the matter, Quirrell? Do you think I give a sour Krapfen about the sins of my father? The grudges of Snape? Or the plans of Dumbledore and a man that by all rights should be dead?" He glared down at the man, his emerald eyes like ice "I do NOT Quirrell, quite frankly I could care less if James Potter and the Potions Master hated each other or if they were fuck buddies, I certainly don't intend to become whatever the hell Dumbledore has planned for me either, so there's THAT little wrinkle sorted."

He snorted mockingly at the man's look of fear "And as for Voldemort, the man knows NOTHING of power, he's so scared of death he spent most of his life looking for ways to avoid it. Even his title means 'To Fly from Death'. Do I fear a coward, Quirrell? I assure you, I do not." He turned to look at the man "But I will assure you, Quirrell, for what he made you put my friends through, I'll make sure he comes to fear me…you come to fear ME."

"You're bluffing…" Quirrell shot back, his tone laced with false confidence as he attempted to sneer at the boy-who-lived "You know nothing of the Dark Lord-!"

"I know he sees what you see and hears what you hear." Herwald countered, his tone mocking as he repeated the man's words, even as he tapped his bloody sabre against his palm "What I wonder, Quirrell, is if he can feel what you feel?"

Quirrell blinked, his eyes widening in horror as he realized what the boy was implying, his face paling as he caught the deadly intent in those murderous emerald eyes.

"Let's test that theory, shall we?" Herwald demanded, raising the sabre in the air, point aimed at the struggling man's bleeding knee, Quirrell's screams tearing through the chamber even as the point came down.

* * *

_Fluffy's 'Lovely Suite'..._

"Goyle!" Draco snapped, the heir of Malfoy sending a stunning spell right between Fluyyy's eyes as he helped Hermione out of the trapdoor "Get the bloody door open! We need to find Professor Snape!"

"What about Herwald?" Goyle demanded, the larger Slytherin looking uncertain even as he sent a stunner of his own at ne of the other heads, Crabbe having gone off with Neville earlier to get Ron to the hospital wing "Is he alright?"

"I don't know," Draco muttered, scowling bitterly in concern "But if I'd feel better about his chances with Godfather on our side, hell I'd even take that oaf Hagrid, though knowing him e'd probably bring a DRAGON down with him."

Hermione said nothing, as the Slytherin wasn't that far off really, the three of them racing out of the room, Goyle opting to stay behind to guard the door while Hermione and Draco raced off, the former tucking Herwald's invisibility cloak into her pocket. "I'll go look for McGonagall…" she assured the Slytherin boy "At the very least she'll HAVE to come now that she knows Harrys gone down there."

"Gone down WHERE, Miss Granger." A familiar voice asked, the pair looking up to see Albus Dumbledore, flanked by their respective heads of houses, standing at the bottom of the stairs smiling benignly "I believe you were looking for me earlier?"

* * *

_The Mirror Chamber..._

Herwald glared down at the broken remains of Quirrell, the man having died, either from his injuries or from shock or from blood loss was uncertain, but he was clearly not moving, and a cautionary kick to the nuts did nothing but make the boy feel minute satisfaction. "Pathetic…" He muttered, shaking his head in disgust "If this is the best Voldemort can come up with, it's no wonder he fell the first time round."

Turning his back on the body, which had more holes punched in it than Swiss cheese, though none led to directly vital organs. Quirrell hadn't died quickly; Herwald had made sure of that, he'd driven home every blow with all the savagery and bitterness that had built up over the course of the year, starting with the Headmaster's machinations to how Ron had been so carelessly manhandled. He hoped wherever he was, Voldemort had keeled over from the pain he shared with his minion, if not he could always seek the old warmonger out and finish the job in person.

'Let it never be said the Einzberns eschewed the direct approach.' Herwald snorted, shaking his head mockingly as he wiped his blade clean with a piece of cloth from Quirrell's cloak, before turning his attention to the Mirror, his eyes narrowing as he took in the reversed words on its frame 'My heart's greatest desire huh?' he wondered, narrowing his eyes at the deceptively empty surface 'Such an oblique ability… a person's desires can change like the seasons…up until a few moments ago I'd have said mutilating Quirrell was mine…'

Tempted despite himself, he stepped boldly up to the mirror, staring into its depths, only to blink, looking over his shoulder sharply, before turning back to face the seen before him.

His reflection wasn't alone, Illyasviel stood to his right, her small hand held in his, and behind her stood a tall, silver haired woman that bore more than a passing resemblance to her. On his left stood Shirou, his hand on his shoulder, with a tall man with messy hair and an almost wistful expression on his face he recognized as Emiya Kiritsugu from the man's funeral picture standing behind the redhead, his hand held in Irisviel's as they smiled out at him. Sella and Leysritt were there too, as were Rin, Sakura and Rider, and he swore for a second the flash of white and blue near the back had been Assassin's mask and Sabre's skirt.

'So this is my greatest desire…' he breathed, reaching out to touch the reflective surface with a trembling hand, almost hesitant to do so in case he drove it away, his reflection's arm coming up, mimicking his pose, only for him to freeze as it smirked at him. 'Was die Holle…' he swore, looking on as his reflection pulled it's arm back, slipping it's hand into its pocket, his eyes widening as it removed a blood-red stone 'Is that-?'

The reflection winked, once, before putting the Stone back in its pocket, Herwald jolting in alarm as he felt something heavy drop into his real pocket, his hand going to it instantly even as he realized exactly what had happened, exactly what his reflection had dumped there.

"Well done, Potter." A familiar, raspy voice hissed, Herwald whipping round to stare at Quirrell's body, which had begun to twitch, the youth looking on in alarm as vapour of some sort began to rise from the corpse, pair of glowing red eyes like hot coals in the centre "I knew you'd be of some use to me alive…"

"Lord Voldemort I presume?" Herwald muttered, the adopted Einzbern eyeing the corpse before him warily, as the last thing he cared to deal with was a Vampire or whatever form of undead the so called 'Dark Lord' had turned himself into "I was wondering when we'd get a chance to talk face to face…"

"You certainly are a strange one, Potter…" the high voice noted, a face forming vaguely in the middle of the smoke, a hideous, snake-like face, barely human at all "Cold, malicious, torturing poor Quirrell to death…" the face sneered "Quite the little viper aren't you?"

"He hurt what was mine, albeit indirectly." Herwald countered, gripping his sabre tightly, for all the good it was likely to do, even as he gripped the stone in his left pocket "I do not tolerate that from anyone, especially incompetents."

"How very Slytherin of you." Voldemort's spectre leered, his tone laced with raspy approval as he hovered over Quirrell's corpse "What do you say, Potter? You've made it clear you do not trust that old twinkler in his ivory tower, why not join with me?" the red eyes glinted ominously "When I return I will need powerful allies Potter, and Lord Voldemort remembers those who did him service."

"Service as in using the stone to craft you a new, immortal body?" Herwald demanded, quirking a brow as he pulled the red stone from his pocket, Voldemort's crimson eyes locking onto it hungrily "I've no doubt you were paying attention earlier, so you probably heard all I said about Equivalent exchange and the stone's ability to bypass it." He narrowed his eyes at the man "It won't work you know, the Elixir of life is a complex concoction of which the stone is but a single ingredient, while it COULD, theoretically, make you a new body, I would need the recipe for the elixir to brew it."

"Nevertheless, the fact it can be used to create an unlimited number of bodies is itself a means towards immortality for me." Voldemort insisted, his tone revenant as his crimson eyes locked onto Herwald's Emerald green "What say you, Potter? Side with me, and your heart's greatest desires will be yours."

Herwald paused, his brow furrowed in thought as he glanced down at the stone in his hand, keeping a wary eye in Voldemort in case the spectre tried to possess him, only to catch a glimpse of his reflection and freeze. A new pair had joined the Emiya family, a man with a startling resemblance to Herwald, with shorter, messier hair, and a redheaded woman with the same shade of green in her eyes.

Herwald gaped at them for a moment, wondering how in the world he'd missed them, only to scowl and round on Voldemort, his hand tightening around the stone. "This can't give me my heart's desire." he muttered, raising the stone up for Voldemort to see, his Destructive Array humming with every last ounce of his Prana "So why should I grant YOURS?"

The last thing he head was Voldemort's roar of anger, before he activated the Array in his right arm, destroying the stone, the wraith's scream blotted out as a thousand more seemed to crash down on top of the boy as everything went black.

* * *

Sniper: Holy Dooley!

Heavy: How could zis happen?

Spy: Well now...

Engineer: HOOWEE! Hell of an explosion tharr...

Scout: Man dat is messed up right dere dat is...

Indeed it is, Medic your prognosis?

Medic: He ist eizer going to be dead...or wishing he vas come ze next chapter.

Kyugan: Undoubtedly, now if you'd do the honours?

Medic: Jawhol...

Organ-Schleifer: Organ Grinder (the guy that play music while monkeys dance)

Krapfen: Berliner, Jelly Filled Donut and a certain former US president according to a trope that may, or may not, be true.

Medic: It should be noted zat, vile Berlin citizens DO refer to zemselves as _Berliners_, zey generally do not refer to 'jelly doughnuts' as such, razer zey call zem Berliner Pfannkuchen (literally Berlin Pancakes), which vile commonly shortened to Berliner in other areas of Germany, ist shortened to Pfannkuchen (pancakes) in and around Berlin.

Heavy: *Munching on a Jelly Sandvich* Omnonom...

R&R!


	17. Chapter 16: End of Year Revelations

Kyugan: Last one for a bit.

Demoman: Och, don't let this tale have an unhappy ending.

Sniper: Too roight mate, let the litte ripper make it.

Kyugan: Relax, I'm not killing him off, he's got seven more books to survive after all. Now the Wheel of Fate is Turning, let us see what the Shift in the Continuum has wrought...

* * *

End of a Year Revelations.

Shirou sat up with a gasp, the redhead's ochre eyes wide as sweat dripped off his form, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he tried to calm his beating heart. "Sempai?" Sakura moaned, the plum hired girl yawning as she raised herself from his right side, rubbing her eyes sleepily "Is something the matter?"

"It…it's nothing, Sakura…" he assured the younger Tohsaka sibling, though he couldn't quite get the shock out of his voice "Just a bad dream, that's all…"

"Baka…" Rin muttered from his other side, the elder Tohsaka growling at her boyfriend/apprentice for waking her up "Go back to sleep dammit, we need to get up early tomorrow, remember?"

"Yes Rin/Neechan…" the pair sighed, knowing better than to cross the elder Tohsaka when she was half-asleep. Rin could be a real bear without a good eight hours behind her, and neither of them wanted to have to walk on eggshells during tomorrow's magus training.

As such, Shirou lay back on the bed he shared with the girls, whenever Taiga wasn't around naturally, allowing them snuggle closer to him for warmth, his arms coming up to hug them closer to his chest, idly stroking their hair in a manner both girls found soothing, though Rin would never admit it.

'That's weird…' he muttered, his eyes narrowing in concern even as he slowly began to drift back to sleep 'For some reason…I feel like Herwald-kun is in trouble…'

* * *

_Oh how right he is... _

Herwald screamed, his back arching painfully as he struggled against the sheer, gut-wrenching agony that was threatening to tear him apart at the seams. He screamed, but this meant little, as all around the screams of the tortured, screams of the damned, screams of the innocent and guilty alike echoed, an endless cacophony of sorrow and hatred that refused to end, which took his meaningless, insignificant cries of displeasure and drowned them in the torrent of their endless grief.

For how long had he been here? How many days? Months? Years? Time had apparently lost all meaning, one sec seemed to last an eternity, and yet an eternity seemed to pass in an instant. All Herwald knew was that pan comprised his entire existence, and that HIS agony was nothing compared to the sheer magnitude of the suffering which was going on around him.

'Shut up…' he swore, though the words never reached his lips, he certainly didn't hear them himself over the din of the multitude of screams 'I'm not responsible for your pain! It's not my fault you're suffering! SHUT THE HELL UP!"

**"You're a noisy one, aren't you?"** A voice asked, neither male nor female, yet laced with a sense of amusement that was unnerving **"And so young…I can't recall the last time someone so young came here."**

Herwald blinked, his emerald eyes opening wide for what felt like the first time in millennia, his shcok at the sudden silence so prominent that for a moment he feared he'd gone deaf. Looking down at himself, he found himself dressed in the clothes he'd been wearing in the final chamber with the Quirrell and the mirror, his robes splattered with blood, dirt and grime from the trials he'd faced to get the final chamber.

'What is this?' he wondered idly, looking down at his hands, almost not recognizing them, eve with the Transmutation arrays grafted onto his palm and fingers like macabre tattoo 'Am I…am I dead?'

**"You are."** A voice noted, Herwald's head snapping up, his emerald eyes as he found himself standing in a strange, off-white world, bereft of any form of features. **"And yet, at the same time, you are not."**

"What is this?" the young alchemist demanded, looking around for the source of the mysterious voice, desperate for any clue as to what was going on "Where is this?"

**"This is the gate." **The genderless voice called out, Herald turning only to blink at the sight of the strange, off-white human shaped silhouette, if such a thing could be called such, squatting in front of the largest, most ominous looking gate imaginable.

The overall shape of the silhouette was human, about the same size as Herwald actually, almost as if his outline had been roughly sketched onto rough paper and then brought to life. But that was where the resemblance ended. It had no features, no gender, not even any defining details. There was no skin, no hair, not even bones or muscle, simply a white outline against the off-white background, one 'arm' resting on its 'knee', it's unseen gaze boring into the young Magus like a laser.

"The Gate?" he repeated, his curiosity as a Magus overriding his confusion and fear, a typical failing of Magi everywhere really, stepping forward, heedless of the weight of the being's sightless stare as he looked around warily, noting with surprise there was another gate located behind him, though this one was less impressive, and bore only a single glyph, what appeared to be a runic crest in the shape of a lightning bolt "The gate to where?"

**"Who knows?"** the being shrugged, the 'shoulders' rising almost noncommittally, it's genderless voice devoid of emotion, though Herwald got a feeling of smugness from it, as if it knew something he didn't, which at that moment seemed more than likely **"If you want to find out, you'll need to open it and find out."**

"Yeah, because stepping through weird ass gates that hover in mid-air is at the top of my to-do list after winding up in…wherever the Hölle this place is." Herwald muttered, eyeing the figure warily as he spoke "how do I know these gates don't come with a cost?"

**"You're a cautious one, aren't you?"** the figure noted, and Herwald swore he could detect a note of smugness in its androgynous voice as it continued to eyeball him despite lacking the necessary organs to do so **"Indeed, normally in order to pass through the gate, one would be expected to pay a Toll."** It waved a hand dismissively **"However, in your case, you get a 'free pass' so to speak, though it's only a one-time thing so don't be getting greedy."**

"Toll?" Herwald repeated, blinking in suspicion as he gazed between the gates and the even more mysterious gatekeeper, if such a being could be referred to as such "What kind of toll? And just what the hell do you mean by a 'Free Pass'?"

**"Such inquisitiveness and caution in one so young."** The figure noted in amusement **"Really, one would expect a child to act more like, well, a child…" **it sighed briefly **"Such are the foibles of man, they can't seem to leave well enough alone."**

"Get to the point you bastard." Herwald snapped, not liking the way the figure was beginning to ramble on about apparently nothing "What the hell is going on here?"

**"Sorry, but that's all we have time for today."** The figure countered, a wide, shit-eating grin forming on its face despite its lack of lips, Herwald feeling a shiver race down his pine even as the door behind him slammed open, several black tendrils lashing out to drag him inside **"I'll see you again someday, maybe NEXT time you'll be worthy enough to pass through the gate on your own."**

Wait dammit!" Herwald snarled, struggling against the bonds holding him back, his right hand reaching out to grasp at the being's face "I'm not through with you yet!" he snapped, his fingers wrapping around the creature's face, only to blink as he crushed it in fist, looking at his hand in shock to see, not a face, or lack of one rather, but a ruined pair of half-moon spectacles.

"Good afternoon, Harry." A voice greeted kindly, Herwald looking up to see a pair of Twinkling eyes glittering down at him benignly.

BAM!

"Mr. Potter!" an irate voice shrieked, the youth blinking, looking down at his hand, which was aching, both from the gass shards embedded in it and from whatever the hell he'd just punched, before looking up to see the irate form of Poppy Pomfrey gaping at him in shock from the opposite side of his bed "What on earth do you think you're doing? You attacked the headmaster!"

Herwald blinked, before turning to look down the side of his bed, where sure enough the unconscious form of Albus Dumbledore lay recumbent on the floor, his eyes crossed above a nose, it seemed that had been broken for the third time, once again by an Einzbern no less.

"I'm in trouble aren't I?" Herwald muttered knowingly, looking the irate matron in the eye as she swelled to nigh apoplectic proportions "Scheiße, I knew there was a cost…"

* * *

_One fussing session courtesy of Poppy Pomfrey layter... _

After being revived and having his nose set and bandaged by Madam Pomfrey, apparently noses were one of the few things that couldn't be properly fixed by magic, Dumbledore once again found himself seated at Herwald' bedside, just outside of striking distance to be safe with a spare pair of half-moon spectacles over his twinkling eyes.

"Sorry about that Headmaster." Herwald offered, though truth be told he really didn't care if the old man lost the use of his schnozz, maybe it would teach him to keep it out of other people's affairs "I was having a bad dream and lashed out at the first thing I saw."

"Perfectly alright my boy." Dumbledore assured him, in that grandfatherly tone he used to put people at ease, though he noticed Herwald, if anything, seemed to tense up even more "I dare say after what you've been through, a few nightmares are the least of your concerns."

Herwald snorted, knowing all to well that Illyasviel was likely to flay him alive for getting dragged into such a farce, only to blink as he espied the bedside table piled high with what looked like half the candy shop.

"Tokens from your friends and admirers." Dumbledore explained, beaming cheerily "What happened down in the dungeons between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows." His eyes twinkled merrily "I believe your friends Misters Fred and George Weasley were responsible for trying to send you a toilet seat. No doubt they thought it would amuse you. Madam Pomfrey, however, felt it might not be very hygienic, and confiscated it."

"How long have I been in here?" Herwald demanded, making a note to ask the Matron turn the toilet seat over to him before he left, it'd make a hilarious memento of his first year.

"Three days." Dumbledore admitted, smiling as if this was the most normal thing in the world and he was very happy for the boy "I do believe Misters Ronald Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, and Miss Granger will be most relieved you have come round, they have been extremely worried."

"I'm sure they have been…" Herwald muttered, looking bemused "Three days with nothing but Gregory and Vincent, Draco will be spitting fire."

"Indeed, Mr. Potter." Dumbledore agreed, his eyes twinkling, though Herwald swore he saw a slight discomfort as the old man continued to look at him "On a related note, I was perhaps wondering if you could tell me PRECISELY what happened down in the chamber with the late Professor Quirrell?"

Herwald frowned, eyeing the old man warily as he felt the familiar testing of his mental barriers that meant the man was attempting Legilimency. Apparently the rings on his fingers couldn't be removed without his permission, either that or they had some sort of notice-me-not function unless you knew what to look for, either way, Dumbledore wasn't about to learn the EXACT truth of what happened in the chamber from HIM, he didn't owe the old man anything that the one punch to the schnozz hadn't paid off…that he knew of.

"It's…kind of a blur…" he admitted, which was technically true "I broke in, Quirrell was trying to get the stone out of the mirror, kept poking at the damn thing with his wand." He shrugged "He tried to get me to look in it, I did, and the stone wound up in my pocket, Quirrell tried to get me to hand the stone over, I told him where to stick his wand, there was a struggle, I kept thinking how I couldn't let the stone get in his hands and then everything went white." He shrugged "When I woke up, you were leaning over me. Sorry again for the nose."

"Quite alright my boy…" Dumbledore assured him, missing the slight twitch of Herwald's eyes, as he most certainly did NOT consider himself ANYTHING of Dumbledore's "So the Stone was destroyed…I suppose that explains why the chamber collapsed as it did."

"Wait, collapsed?" Herwald exclaimed, looking at the man in alarm, which wasn't entirely faked for once "How in Merlin's name did THAT happen?"

"As a fledgling alchemist yourself, I'm certain you know of the Sorcerer's Stone's power?" Dumbledore asked, using the incorrect name, much to Herwald's annoyance "Well, the sheer amount of power the stone contained is immeasurable, when it was destroyed, a regrettable loss to be sure, all that energy was released, and I fear you and Quirrell took the brunt of the assault.

"So where IS that Turbaned Twit?" Herwald demanded, feigning ignorance in case Dumbledore grew suspicious of the cause of the man's death.

"Alas, poor Quirinus must have been closer to the stone than you were." Dumbledore revealed with a sigh that made him appear older "His body was literally tor apart, we found only his clothes left behind."

"Good riddance to bad rubbish." Herwald muttered, scowling at the reproving look on the headmaster's face "Headmaster, if you're expecting pity for a man that let Voldemort piggyback on the back of his skull for a year then you're sadly mistaken."

"I suppose it is only natural to feel that way, Harry." Dumbledore admitted, his blue eyes taking on a rather sad twinkle as he placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, Herwald doing his best to resist the urge to slap the wrinkled hand aside "However, do not judge Quirrell to harshly, stronger men than he have fallen under the sway of Voldemort…they are to be pitied."

Herwald said nothing, merely glanced down at his right hand, which he noted was covered with bandages. He resisted the urge to check to see if his circuits were intact, after a massive strain like that it was likely they'd been damaged by the overload of prana, because he didn't want Dumbledore to find out about them. "You said the stone was destroyed." He noted, looking at the old man warily "Have you contacted Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel to let them know?"

"I should not be surprised you know about Nicholas and Perenelle." Dumbledore chuckled, sounding quite delighted "I'm sure a budding young alchemist like yourself grew up with tales of them." He nodded sadly "To answer your question, yes, Nicholas and I have had a little chat, and agreed it's all for the best."

'I don't believe THAT for a second.' Herwald muttered, eyeing the elder Magus suspiciously. No self-respecting Magi would take the destruction of their Magnum Opus so lightly, Blood Feuds had been started for less. For Nicholas Flamel to just bush aside the destruction of the Stone so casually was just too unbelievable to be true.

"I can understand your concern, young Herwald." Dumbledore assured the boy "Believe me, this is not an easy thing they accepted. But rest assured, they have more than enough Elixir stored to set their affairs in order before the end." He smiled distantly "To one as young as you, I'm sure it seems incredible, but to Nicolas and Perenelle, it really is like going to bed after a very, very long day. After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure."

'I'm having a hard enough time with the adventures of my CURRENT life thank you very much.' Herwald muttered, ignoring the old man as he ranted on about the Stone being an 'evil' thing without actually saying the word. "Sir, would it be at all possible for me to contact them?" he interrupted, cutting the man off mid lecture "I feel, as the one responsible for the stone being destroyed, I should offer them an apology."

"Ah Harry." Dumbledore smiled, looking at the boy warmly "You should not concern yourself, the Flamel's are quite understanding of what transpired in the cavern."

"The stone wouldn't have been in danger if I hadn't come looking for it." Herwald countered sternly, refusing to be waylaid "Quirrell didn't have the foggiest idea as to how to get the stone, he'd have been stuck down there until you got back were it not for me stumbling in and finding it for him. I owe it to the Flamels to at least apologize for that."

"If it will put your mind at ease, I shall endeavour to pass on any missive's you have to Nicholas before he changes his address once again." Dumbledore assured him with a smile "You do your family credit, Harry." He noted, and Herwald felt he was referencing the Potters, rather than the Einzberns "And speaking of which, I happen to have some good news for you. I've been in contact with your Aunt and Uncle, your Mother's relatives, and they're quite happy to take you in for the summer."

"I already have arrangement for my holidays, Headmaster." Herwald countered, scowling at the man, as this was the first he'd heard of his having any living biological relatives, which almost certainly meant they were Mundanes. Not tht he had anything against Mundanes mind you, Fujimura Taiga was the closest thing he had to a positive female HUMAN role model after all, butit was a sad truth that Mundanes tended to be spiteful at worst, indifferent at best, in regards to their distant magical relatives.

"Nevertheless, I must insist you stay with your family, Harry." Dumbledore smiled, has eyes twinkling full force, and Herwald swore he felt something press against his wards "They were quite distraught to learn you'd been taken from them for the past Eleven Years, and are eager to make up for lost time."

'If I was supposedly left on their doorstep in November like the rumours say I was, then I highly doubt it old man.' Herwald muttered, resisting the urge to say so aloud, instead shrugging his shoulders offhandedly "Well, I suppose spending time with family is important." He admitted, though he was referring, of course, to Shirou, Illyasviel and the residents of the Emiya House.

"Splendid!" Dumbledore applauded, clapping his hands together cheerfully, before getting to his feet with a smile "Now then, I have other duties to attend to, so I must take my leave, though if you have no objections to me pilfering one of your sweets?"

Herwald nodded, as he wasn't one for sweets, so he could care less if the old man scarfed the lot, looking on in morbid fascination as the old man popped an Every-Flavour Bean into his mouth, only to choke as the harmless 'toffee' turned out to be ear wax.

* * *

_The Feast... _

After seeing to all his guests, Ron had apparently been released the day before he'd roused and was feeling fitter than ever, well enough to get into his usual arguments with Draco anyway, and getting a good night's sleep, Herwald felt nearly back to normal. Nearly, that is, save for the fact there seemed to be something wrong with his magic.

His circuits still worked, which was a tremendous relief, but for some reason he felt as if only part of the Prana he was using was getting through, as if a filter had been set on his circuits.

'A dampening spell…' he muttered, scowling in distaste as he recognized the symptoms. It was an old, pureblood practice to keep adolescents from using their magic TOO freely until they reached their majority, in order to encourage control. Herwald already had phenomenal control of his Circuits, Alchemy was a VERY demanding practice after all, so he suspected the reason one had been placed on HIM was to keep him in check.

'Not bloody likely.' He muttered, resolving to speak to Rin about unblocking his circuits when he went home this year. The girl had done something similar for Shirou, who up until then had 'made' a new circuit whenever he needed one by converting one of his nerves into a magic circuit, a practice which should have destroyed his spinal column if he'd kept at it.

He'd gotten up early, as usual, actually beating out Madam Pomfrey, appearing before her washed, dressed and ready to leave, wanting to spend the time before the end of year feast with his friends, which she agreed to, provided he took a strengthening potion before he left.

The Slytherins welcomed him back civilly, though a few sent him wary looks from across the common room. Knowledge was power after all, and Slytherin's coveted power more than any other house, so it was no surprise they'd made connections to Quirrell's absence and his extended stay at the Hospital Wing.

Draco, Crabbe and Goyle practically threw themselves at him, the larger two checking him over for injuries while the Malfoy heir demanded he tell them what had happened, Ron, Neville and Hermione coming over to do the same, the girl embracing him in another hug that earned looks from all the boys present.

Herwald gave them all the same story he'd given Voldemort, not wanting to alienate them with his casual torturing of the possessed Quirrell till the man died, before pointing out they were drawing looks, the Slytherin quartet making their back to their table while the Gryffindor Trio returned to theirs, Herwald pointedly ignoring the fact that people were standing up to look at him, actually breathing a sigh of relief as Dumbledore showed up, causing the babble to die away as he spread his arms wide.

"Another year gone!" the Supreme Mugwump said cheerfully, eyes a-twinkle as usual "And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast." He paused for the titters and groans to die away "What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were, but then you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts."

'Not bloody likely.' Herald muttered, unable to suppress the urge to scowl at the old meddler, his hand tightening over his wrist as he recalled the seal on his circuits. Only one person could authorize such a procedure on a student within the walls of Hogwarts, and while he was certain Madam Pomfrey wouldn't have objected much to allowing or overseeing the procedure, she still would have needed the old man's permission or order to do so.

"Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus:" Dumbledore noted, smiling at them all "In fourth place, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; third, Ravenclaw with four hundred and twenty-six; Gryffindor comes second with Four Hundred and Fifty, and Slytherin is in the lead with four hundred and seventy-two."

A storm of cheering and stamping broke out from the Slytherin table, Herald quirking his brow as his normally reserved house mates finally started acting like the children they were. "Yes, Yes, well done, Slytherin," Dumbledore, applauded, his eyes twinkling "However, recent events must be taken into account." He pointed out, reaching into his robes as the room fell silent, the Slytherin's smiles fading a little "Ahem," said Dumbledore. "I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes…?"

"Excuse me, Headmaster." Herald called out, his voice like a whip crack in the silence of the hall, the emerald eyed Einzbern's gaze locked onto the Supreme Mugwump Twinkling Blue "But I'm afraid you're not allowed to do that."

Dumbledore blinked, staring at the boy who lived in shock, while behind him, the combined faculty and students of Hogwarts stared at the boy in shock, and in Snape's case, intrigue. "I'm sorry, Mr. Potter?" the Supreme Mugwump asked, wondering if his hearing WAS beginning to act up in his old age, as he was so fond of doing "What was that?"

"I'm saying you cannot award any additional points, sir." Herwald elaborated, holding the old man's twinkling gaze without fear "As stated in the official Rules and Ordinances of Hogwarts, once the house points have been tallied up by the end of the year, any additional rewards and deductions are forbidden on the grounds that the year has already come to a close."

"Ah," Dumbledore noted, his smile returning in full effect, even as he was no doubt wondering where on earth the boy had gotten his hands on the Rules in the first place "But you see, MR. Potter, these points are for actions served DURING the school year-"

"Then they should have been awarded BEFORE the end of year feast, Headmaster." Herwald interrupted, his voice firm, as if scolding a subordinate, rather than humiliating the headmaster of his school "It was one of the few things all Four Founders agreed on most heartily: Once the End of year Celebration has begun, no changes can be made to the end of year scores, no matter HOW exemplary the students in question. To do so now would not only violate one of the oldest rules in the school, but would be the same as waving aside the hard work of all the other students."

There was a gathered muttering at this, as the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs considered the Boy-Who-Lived's words. It was all too clear, to them anyways, that the ones who would be receiving points would most likely by Gryffindors, as while Dumbledore preached house unity, he had always favoured the Lions over anyone else, and had been ESPECIALLY lenient with them this year, even waiving some of the Weasley Twins' detentions.

Even the faculty were looking a little rattled, Snape had been sending the headmaster dirty looks the moment the words 'additional points' had left his mouth, and was STILL doing so, though now he was shooting side glances at Herwald every second or so. Flitwick and Sprout watched the discomfort and anger on their house's faces and had to admit, though they would deny it to anyone, that they shared their charges' anger, though to a lesser extent. Their charges had earned their rankings through sweat and hard work, what right did Dumbledore have to upset the scales now?

While this was going on Herwald and Dumbledore continued their staring competition, unaware and uncaring of the reaction their conversation had roused in the others. Herwald held his ground, confident in the Ring of Kay's ability to protect his mind from the old meddler's Legilimency, though he needn't have bothered, as he felt nothing against the outer 'walls' of his mind, it seemed the old man was simply evaluating him with his eyes.

After a moment, Herwald swore he saw a flash of approval in those twinkling eyes, and then Dumbledore sighed, looking like an old man that had been caught doing something foolish, "It would seem I was mistaken." He chuckled, a small, self-mocking 'I'm just a harmless old man' smile twitching under his beard "How embarrassing, very well, let the feast resume…"

It did so, though the Slytherins were a lot more reserved and conducted themselves with a decidedly more sportsmanlike manner, knowing it was only from the lack of outcry to Herwald's rebuttal that they'd held the house cup for the seventh year in a row.

Herwald idly wondered if THIS had been the old man's intention, but brushed it aside. Nobody could be THAT good a manipulator, could they?

* * *

_After the Feast..._

The exam results came shortly after the feast ended, and much to the surprise of Crabbe and Goyle, both had passed with good marks. Hermione, of course, had the best grades of the first years in theory, though she'd been overshot in the practical element by Herwald in DADA and Transfiguration, Draco in Potions, and Neville in Herbology, though she reigned supreme when it came to Charms and Astronomy, with Herwald finishing a VERY close second.

In seemingly no time at all, their wardrobes were emptied, their trunks packed, a stiff-looking McGonagall handing out notes to all students warning them not to use magic over the holidays, before Hagrid escorted the First Years down to the fleet of boats that sailed across the lake, allowing them to board the Hogwarts Express. All Seven of them gathering into one cramped compartment, just relaxing, playing games of Wizarding chess and exploding snap, which Neville, apparently, was notoriously good at, laughing all the while, only pausing to change into their regular clothing, not much of a change for Draco really, simply better quality robes, as the Express pulled into platform nine and three-quarters at King's Cross Station, passing through the barrier in groups of two or three under the supervision of a wizened old guard to avoid attracting attention.

"You simply MUST come and visit for the summer, Herwald." Draco insisted, the Malfoy Heir looking at his friend imploringly as they slipped through together "Father and Mother would be most pleased to meet you."

"I'll try, but I think I'll be rather busy this Summer." Herald offered, the adopted Einzbern smiling at his friend, even as he scanned the crowds for his escort, catching sight of Rider waiting on the far side of King' cross "There's my lift, see you later."

"I'll send you an owl when I get home." Draco assured him, following his friend's gaze, a slight tinge of pink adorning his cheeks as he met the disguised Servant's gaze briefly "See you next year…!"

Crabbe and Goyle grunted, shaking hands with the younger boy before marching off to mee their own parents, Herwald watching them go before making his way towards his escort, striding past a rather obese looking man that was glaring at the Barrier as if it offended him in every single way possible. He didn't envy the unfortunate student the man was waiting for, for the man looked like an enraged walrus about to gore something at that moment.

"Guten Tag, Rider." He greeted, only to pause as he caught sight of the look on the youngest Gorgon Sister's face as he drew close, the way she was holding her elbows and the tenseness of her shoulders making it clear she was agitated "What's wrong?"

"It's Illyasviel." Rider explained, her tone grim, as if it caused her great discomfort to be the bearer of bad news for the boy "She's fallen ill…we don't know what's wrong."

* * *

Kyugan: Right, I think I'll just leave off there...!

Is suddenly yanked off his feet by an enraged, Ubercharged Heavy, as the rest of the team, also Ubercharged, aims respective weapons at him.

Heavy: NO!

Sniper: Don't you bloody dare you bloomin' Piker!

Engineer: Boy you're ASKIN' fer an ass kickin'!

Soldier: MAGGOT! YOU WILL STICK TO YOUR POST OR WITH GOD AS MY WITNESS I WILL MAKE YOUR LIFE A LIVING HELL!

Scout: I'm gonna smash yer head all over da damn screen if you don't quit dicking around man!

Demoman: Boy, if you make the wee hen die I'ma gonna give you an unhappy ending of yer own!

Spy: May I make a suggestion? (loads revolver and aims it at Kyugan's face) Write.

Kyugan: Alright alright...sheesh I was just kidding...

Medic: Save your humor for later, Herr Kyugan, it is my prognosis that if you don't get off your asch and finish this, I'll be needing a new bodybag.

Kyugan: On it...sheesh, overprotective (Sounds of guns cocking) WORKING ON IT!

R&R!


	18. Epilogue: New Beginnings

Kyugan: Okay, seriously last one people, that's it.

Heavy: If little girl dies, I break your spine like I did Blue soldier's.

Herwald: Dude, have you READ any of my past stories? You know how I feel about pointless Character death.

Sniper: What about that Shirley sheila in-?

Kyugan: POINTLESS Character Death. As much as I disliked it, I needed an excuse for him to go Berserk.

Demoman: Ye couldn't a' given him nip o the irish?

Kyugan: One, he's technically French-American. Two, I'm a teetotaller, no alcohol purchased using MY money.

Spy: Where'd you get the firewhiskey then?

Kyugan: Christmas Present, now the Wheel of Fate is Turning, let us see what ending the Shift in the Continuum has wrought...

* * *

Epilogue and new beginings.

Shirou sighed, the redheaded Emiya closing the sliding door to the room behind him before making his way back to the living room, here the rest of his makeshift 'family', with the exception of Fuji-nee, were gathered for an emergency meeting. "Sempai?" Sakura greeted, looking up at her crush/lover/potential-brother-in-law/spouse in concern along with Rin, Rider, Sella and Leysritt "How are they?"

"I don't know…" the redhead sighed, sinking onto the floor between the two siblings, a concerned look in his ochre eyes, which were looking rather drawn "Ilya SEEMS fine, just very weak, and Herwald refuses to leave her side, even when I offered to keep watch he refused to leave the room."

"It's understandable." Rin muttered, though she looked troubled as well "The last time they were separated, her personality changed completely, now he comes back from almost a year abroad, only to find out she'd fallen ill?"

Shirou grimaced, recalling the shock they'd all had when, one day, Illyasviel had just suddenly collapsed without any warning. It had been the day before Herwald was to come home, and they were in the middle of planning his welcome-back party, which Taiga, predictably, had gone overboard with, which sparked another one of her, by now, routine spats with her charge's elder, despite her appearance, step sister, the others ignoring them for the most part, right up until Taiga's cry of alarm drew them to the yard, where the terrified woman was holding a frighteningly still Illyasviel in her arms.

When Shirou had rushed to check on the homunculus, he'd found her forehead blistering to the touch, her normally flawless white skin flushed and dripping with sweat, as if she'd been running a fever for weeks, despite only a few seconds passing between her bickering with Fuji-nee and her collapsing on the ground.

Needless to say, Stella and Leysritt had been in hysterics, the normally reserved of the pair running around in a panic while Leysritt fretted endlessly, having to be comforted by Sakura even as Shirou carried his sister to his room, wrapping her up in warm clothing and tucking her in.

When Taiga FINALLY left to contact the Fujimura family's private doctor, a surprisingly skilled man who was sadly only still in business thanks to the Fujimura Group due to his unfortunate name 'Seriously, who gives their kid a name that spells 'Death' viewed horizontally?', Stella had managed to recover enough to attempt contacting Jubstacheit via the two-way-mirror, in case the old man had any ideas.

He did, and not one of them was pretty, apparently he'd been expecting this for some time now, if anything, according to the old man, it should have happened SOONER.

What followed next was a lesson in one of the more archaic branches of Mage craft that, on any other occasion, Shirou would've traded an arm and a leg to be privy to, albeit a lesson that was horribly abridged, as Jubstacheit wasn't about to pass on his family's knowledge to Kiritsugu's 'adopted brat'.

The process of constructing a Homunculus, known as 'Coining', involved using Alchemy to combine human genetic material with several special substances, Jubstacheit seemed to take great pleasure in denying Shirou the knowledge of said materials, and making the resulting embryo develop without the use of a womb, accelerating their development to adult form, whilst ensuring that they do not grow any older from that point on.

It came as a surprise to Shirou to learn that Sella and Leysritt, despite their appearance, mannerism and formidable power (Leysritt's halberd alone was too heavy for him to lift without reinforcement) were actually YOUNGER than Ilya, having only lived for little more than two years each. However this PALED to the horror he felt as Jubstacheit went on to explain how the price of being given life through such artificial means led to all Homunculi, regardless of their chemical make-up, to possess some sort of physical defect, including, but not limited to: Personality flaws, lack of individuality or reproductive capabilities and, worst of all, short lifespans.

It turned out Homunculi created by the Einzbern, even those regarded as failures, were designed from an early stage to be capable of tremendous magical power, enough so that they were considered a credible threat to the Enforcers of the Magus Association, enough that they knew well enough to stay the hell away from Einzbern affairs, within reason of course.

The reason for this was because of their Magic Circuits. Regardless of their physical limitations, a Homunculus' Magic Circuits made it possible for them to achieve powers that are beyond human Mage Craft. Jubstacheit even went so far as to describe them as 'Magic Circuits with a human form', or rather that every Homunculi created by the Einzbern's was 'made to be a Magic Circuit', rather than a 'mage'.

Sella and Leysritt, along with almost every other Homunculus at the Einzbern home, were the result of this process. However, Illyasviel and her mother Irisviel, were different, in that they were designed for a deeper, more 'auspicious' purpose, that of becoming a vessel for the Holy Grail during the Heaven's Feel, essentially clones of the FIRST vessel: Lizleihi Justica von Einzbern, the Homunculus that was the FIRST Vessel for the very first Heaven's Feel.

While Ilya was considered a 'special case', as Jubstacheit so delicately put it, as she was 'born' normally through conventional means by Irisviel after being impregnated by Kiritsugu, she was put through several magical treatments while still in the womb, and it was here that the problems began.

Apparently, due to the intensive modifications, Ilya's body had become even more unlike that of a human being than other homunculi, which caused her magical power and potential to skyrocket, perfect for controlling a monster like Berserker and for becoming the Vessel for the Grail, though on the downside, her growth had been frozen in a prepubescent state, and her lifespan being dramatically shortened that the odds of her living past the 5th Heaven's Feel were nil.

Of course, as the old man pointed out bitterly, had things proceeded as planned, Illyasviel would never have had to worry about her lack of a future. So far as Jubstacheit was concerned, the girl had been born for one purpose, a purpose that, thanks to the actions of Shirou and the others, had been rendered obsolete. In other words, Jubstacheit had no further use for the 'failed' vessel of the Holy Grail, so far as he was concerned, she was a failure, as even Irisviel had succeeded in becoming the vessel before Kiritsugu betrayed them all.

Shirou had snapped then, punching his reinforced fist through the mirror, sending shards flying in all directions and scaring the bejeezus out of Sella, which he apologized for, even as Rin berated him, not for insulting the Einzbern head, but for passing up whatever chance they had of helping Ilya.

Needless to say, Herwald's welcome home party had NOT been carried out. The boy had no sooner gotten home than he'd raced to his sister's side, only Sakura and Shirou's constant attention keeping him from going without meals.

"Isn't there ANYTHING we can do?" Rin demanded, looking across the table at Sella, who was comforting a distraught Leysritt "I mean, you're both Homunculi too right? Don't you know how to take care of yourselves?"

"We do." Sella confirmed, nodding her head as she rubbed her sister's back "All Homunculi in the Einzbern estate know how to maintain one another, it's part of our 'knowledge' after being Coined." She shook her head sadly "If Lady Illyasviel were the same type as Sella and I we could have probably been able to do something, but all the research notes pertaining to those based on Lady Justica are restricted to the head of the family, Homunculi aren't even allowed to ask about them."

"So we're stumped…" Rin muttered, biting her nail, an action she did whenever stressed out and nervous, her other arm gripping her elbow tightly "Dammit, I always knew the Einzberns were sore losers but this takes the cake…" she looked up at Sella "So how long does she have?"

"I don't know…" the 'older' of the two maids countered, her features strained "According to Lord Einzbern, the fact she's even lasted THIS long is a miracle in and of itself, which can probably be attributed to Mr. Kiritsugu's DNA mixing with Lady Irisviel's." she shook her head "However, it seems she more than likely won't live through the year."

"It isn't fair!" Shirou snapped, slamming his fists on the table top with a look of helpless fury in his ochre eyes "We went through all that together, risked our lives, and now all we can do is sit back and watch her die?"

"Sempai…" Sakura uttered, looking at the redhead in concern, one hand coming out to touch his, his trembling halting at her soft touch, though his look of anguish remained "We'll think of something…" she assured him, turning to Rin earnestly "Won't we, Nee-san?"

"We will." Rin muttered, her brow set in a determined frown, even as she was wracking her brain to figure out what to do. The Tohsaka's speciality was Jewel-Based Magic, an expensive practice, not exactly cost-effective, but perfect for storing vast quantities of prana for later use in augmenting certain spells, like the one she used to revive Shirou after his heart had been pierced by Gae Bolg.

While her father had a passing interest in Alchemy, purely scholarly of course, Rin herself had no interest in the subject, and had passed on all her books on the subject to Herwald, or was intending to anyways. After all, there were a LOT of books in her father's private study, going through them all to find the alchemical ones would take time. And this way she wouldn't have to worry about buying presents for the kid all the time. Jewel-based magic was expensive enough without having to go around spending money on others.

At that moment the doorbell rang, catching the group by surprise, Shirou getting up to answer it, only for Rider to offer to do so, stating that the redhead was in no condition t be greeting anyone and needed to lie down before he did anything.

* * *

_Rider's POV... _

Leaving the boy arguing with Sakura, a losing battle if there ever was one, the younger Tohsaka sibling being VERY stubborn when it came to the boy's health, the youngest of the Gorgon siblings crossed to the front door, slipping on her slippers before opening it. "Can I help you…" she began, only to blink, looking up in surprise at the, imposing figure standing before her.

He was tall, taller than Kiritsugu had been, and broad, his frame and height causing him to tower over the Servant, his features shadowed by the sun shining behind him, though she detected a glint of light reflecting of glass that signified spectacles.

"Excuse me…" the man greeted in perfect Japanese, startling Rider out of her shock, the shadows around him fading as he smiled at her uncertainly "Is this, by any chance, the Emiya Residence?"

Rider blinked, internally berating herself for letting the sudden shock unhinge her, such a mistake could have gotten her killed during the Grail War, looking the man up and down as her vision cleared. He was indeed tall and broad-shouldered, and judging by his features appeared to be a man of relatively healthy middle-age, going by his build and healthy complexion. He wore his long, golden-blond hair in a loose, shoulder-length ponytail with two loose strands of hair falling over his brow, and sported a full donegal-style beard over his strong chin.

Rider had to admit, as far as humans went, the man standing before her would be considered 'very handsome', if a little imposing, a feeling that was only enhanced by the stylish spectacles which he wore over his eyes, which were, she noted with interest, golden in colour.

The man was dressed in clothing that, while normal, were of a style considered out-dated by most, though not as bad as some of the things she'd seen in Wizarding London during their brief stop-overs. Who the hell wore a Kilt and a Poncho in public? Certainly not this fine specimen, who'd opted for a white dress shirt and tie under a black waistcoat and matching casual slacks and a brown overcoat. Stylish black shoes that while of a style that was out-dated, were still clean and well-cared for, adorned his feet, and what appeared to be a pocket-watch chain extended from one pocket on his waistcoat.

"Ano…is this NOT the Emiya residence?" the man asked, looking suddenly nervous as e rubbed the back of his neck, all hints of his imposing presence vanishing in an instant. If anything he looked like a schoolboy caught doing something he shouldn't "I'm sorry, I'm not from around here, as you can tell, so I'd appreciate it if you could direct me t the nearest police-box…"

"This is the Emiya residence." Rider assured the man, her eyes taking in his form warily, assessing him for any potential threats, and was rather surprised when her preliminary checks turned up nothing, which only set her further on edge "What business do you have here."

"Ah, thank goodness…" the man sighed, looking relieved as he spoke "I've been walking around town all morning trying to find this place, Japan sure has changed from the last time I was here. I kept getting lost in those back-streets!"

"Can I help you, sir?" Rider demanded, though she had to admit it was hard to keep up her cold, serpentine visage in the face of the man's affable nature. If anything, she found herself fighting the urge to smile.

"Ah, yes, forgive me." The man offered, chuckling weakly as he patted his head "I tend to ramble on, my wife's always getting on my case about that." He smiled charmingly "Lovely woman, wish you could meet her, I think I have a photo on me somewhere..."

"Your reason for being here, sir?" Rider demanded, suppressing the urge to chuckle at the man's antics. Why was she feeling so amused? She should be feeling annoyed! But the man just seemed to exhibit an air of natural good nature she just couldn't bring herself to dislike him.

"Rider?" Sakura called out, the Servant tensing as her master appeared behind her, the plum haired younger Tohsaka and adopted Matou looking between her and the blonde man in confusion "Oh hello, can I help you sir?"

"Ah, yes." The man smiled, a charming smile that caused Sakura to flush despite herself, even Rider finding herself hard-pressed to avoid a slight shiver, resisting the urge to sigh in relief as the man reached into his overcoat and pulled out an envelope "If you don't mind young lad, could you tell me if a Harry Potter…" he paused briefly, glancing at the envelope once more before looking up again "Forgive me, a Herwald von Einzbern, is currently living here?"

"Do you know Herwald-kun?" Sakura asked, looking at the man carefully, a lifetime of mistreatment in the Matou house making her wary around strangers, though she somehow felt the man before her wasn't a threat. If he was, she was certain Rider would have turned him to stone by now. Rider, on the other hand, had tensed at the mention of Herwald's old name, as the only people that had used it had been British Wizards, and from what she'd seen, and heard from Herwald, a certain 'twinkle-eyed Schwein-Hund' had been taking a little TOO much interest in the boy's life.

"Not personally, no." the man countered, smiling apologetically, "You see, a while ago, I entrusted something to an associate of mine, something that was later destroyed during an incident involving young Herwald." He held up the envelope "It seems the boy felt it was HIS fault the item in question was destroyed, and asked my acquaintance to pass on this letter of apology. After reading it, I felt it might be a good idea to see the boy in person to assure him everything was alright."

Rider's eyes widened at the man's story, having garnered some understanding of what happened to the boy from his dreams, which she routinely infiltrated to ensure he got a decent night's sleep. If what this man was saying was true…

"I'm afraid you've come at a bad time sir." Sakura admitted, looking confused but polite as she shook her head "I'm afraid Herwald-kun can't see anyone right now…" she tailed off as Rider placed a hand on her shoulder "Rider?"

"Come in." the Gorgon instructed, sending a reassuring glance her Master's way as she gestured for the man in the doorway to enter with a nod "Sakura, could you see him to the living room? I'll fetch Herwald-kun."

"Rider?" Sakura exclaimed, looking after her Servant as she left, before turning to the golden haired Gentleman in the doorway in concern "Ano…would you care to come in?"

"Pardon the intrusion." The man offered, smiling apologetically, stepping through the doorway, pausing only to remove his shoes, and a rather fine pair they were, even from Sakura's limited experience, before following her through the halls, his feet making almost no sound as he padded along behind her, moving with a steady, gentle pace that belied his size.

"Who was at the door, Sakura?" Shirou asked, the redhead looking up from his spot at the kitchen, where he was working off his agitation chopping vegetables, only to blink at the sight of the blonde man "A guest?"

"Yes, he's here to see Herwald-kun." Sakura assured the boy, who paused briefly, his ochre eyes shifting from hers to the Golden haired man in understandable suspicion "He says he's come about the letter Herwald sent him."

"What the heck? The kid's got a pen-pal now?" Rin wondered, the elder Tohsaka sibling eyeing the man before her warily, ready for anything.

"Actually I'm merely here about an apology young Herwald sent me regarding the destruction of something belonging to me." The man replied genially "I'm merely here to assure him that everything is alright." He looked around in concern "Though if you don't mind my asking, has something happened? You all look very…put out."

The group blinked, looking at the man in surprise at how quickly he'd deduced their current state of mood. Sakura wasn't her usual cheerful self, Rin was almost constantly biting her thumbnail, and Shirou was attacking the vegetables with almost as much savagery as he had Gilgamesh. Before any of them could comment however, the sound of running feet caught their attention, the group looking u just in time for the porch door to slam open, a haggard looking Herwald standing framed in the doorway, his emerald eyes wide as they glanced around the room wildly.

"Herwald-kun?" Sakura exclaimed, looking at the boy in surprise, as she'd never seen him THIS frantic since he'd come back, as he spent most of his time at Illyasviel's side "What's wrong?"

Herwald turned, panting from the force of his run, only to tense as he caught sight of the golden haired man standing alongside the girl, his emerald eyes locking onto the man's gold, a look of stunned wonderment, tinged with hope visible in them. "You're…here?"

"Ah, yes, how remiss of me." The man chuckled, getting over his shock at the boy' sudden appearance before offering a polite, professional bow "Permit me to introduce myself: My name is Nicholas Flamel."

* * *

_Emiya sitting Room..._

Silence fell over the Emiya living room, the occupants gaping at the golden haired man in shock, Sakura's hands clapped over her mouth, Rin's mouth hanging open, while Shirou came dangerously close to dropping a knife on his foot. You'd think having Epic Heroes living with them might have granted them an immunity to the surreal, but even Shirou had heard of Nicholas Flamel, the most famed alchemist in history, and the awe he felt was, while not on the same level he'd felt the first time he laid eyes on Arturia, close enough to make him feel weak at the knees. The man was a living legend after all.

Herwald recovered his wits first, though that wasn't surprising, considering his upbringing, the boy's features shifting back into their usual calm mask as he shook himself, smoothing himself down to make himself look more presentable. _"My apologies, Monsieur Flamel."_ He offered in perfect French, earning a quirked brow from Rin and a look of confusion from Sakura and Shirou _"If I'd known you were coming I'd have prepared a welcome for you."_

"No need, young man." Flamel assured the boy in Japanese, clearly not wanting to alienate the other members of the house "I'd prefer you didn't, actually, one of the reasons for my coming unannounced." His glasses glinted slightly "The other is to avoid a certain…mutual acquaintance of ours catching wind of the meeting."

"I assume you are referring to Albus Dumbledore?" Herwald asked, his tone clipped, though he was pleased to note that Flamel was as wary of the Supreme Mugwump as he was of Jubstacheit, even if he HAD entrusted the old meddler with the stone.

"Indeed." Flamel noted, holding up th envelope containing Herwald's missive to him "He placed a tracking spell on this envelope, no doubt wanting to keep tabs on my movements in case something cropped up later." He smiled "He really does worry too much, however, fortunately for ME, my wife screens all the mail personally, she noticed and removed the spell before any of us laid a finger on it."

"I would expect no less of a seventh daughter of a seventh daughter." Herwald noted approvingly, a small smile crossing his lips at how easily the old twinkler had been thwarted. Dumbledore might be considered the greatest wizard alive, but Perenelle Flamel had been regarded as THE Sorceress even BEFORE her husband had crafted the Stone, and had since had centuries to refine her already formidable skill. He doubted very much there was a witch or wizard alive that could match Perenelle Flamel in a duel of Magic, the woman was surely in the same class as a Caster Servant by now. "Though it begs the question: Why come at all?"

"Well, partially to thank you for your concerns regarding the Stone's destruction." Flamel admitted, his tone gentle "I'm sure Albus told you it was for the greater good."

"He did, and quite frankly I think the acid in those lemon drops he inhales has rotted his already decrepit brain." Herwald replied, shocking Sakura and Shirou with his words, though Rin quirked a brow, intrigued "I highly doubt you'd come all the way here to reassure me you think no ill of me for destroying that glorified paperweight."

"Herwald-kun?" Sakura blinked, looking at the boy in confusion, only to turn at Flamel's sigh, the ancient alchemist looking both relieved and saddened by the boy's words.

"I see Albus was right…" he noted, his tone laced with good-natured approval "It would seem you are indeed an exceptionally gifted young man." He quirked a brow "If you don't mind my asking, how could you tell? Not even Albus suspected a thing."

"Other than the fact the destruction of the REAL Stone would have killed me and everything within the confines of Hogwarts?" Herwald countered, earning a sharp look from Shirou and Rin, while Sakura squeaked in alarm "The Stone is your Magnum Opus, the culmination of your life's work towards Akasha, I highly doubt you'd entrust the real thing to someone you kicked out for suspecting his motives."

"Albus always was a little TOO obsessed with the concept of a 'greater good'." Flamel admitted with a sigh, shaking his head sadly "A shame really, were it not for he and Jubstacheit's motives, they'd have made fine disciples."

"Wait, hold up." Rin stammered, looking between the two alchemists in confusion "Are you saying…the stone Herwald-kun risked his life to destroy was a FAKE?"

"Be glad it was, Rin-san." Herwald countered, never taking his eyes of Flamel, though it was more from awe than suspicion, going by his relaxed stance "If it hadn't been, I wouldn't be here, nor would Hogwarts for that matter."

"And such a waste that would be." Flamel chuckled, shaking his head in amusement, only to clear his throat and straighten up "Indeed, the stone I entrusted to Albus was a forgery, an imitation of the REAL stone." His eyes were serious "While a powerful alchemical amplifier in its own right, it possesses only a fraction of the true stone's power."

He reached into his pocket, pulling out, much to the others' shock, an egg-shaped, fist-sized ruby gem that seemed to glow with an inner light. All of them held their breath, instinctively knowing what it was without him saying it's name.

"This is the TRUE stone." Flamel declared, his features as if they'd been cut from living stone as he continued t lock gazes with Herwald "The culmination of my life's work, a Crystalized Fragment of Akasha."

"Akasha…?" Rin gasped, backing away from the stone in alarm "You mean…no, you can't possibly mean-!"

"So that's the reason behind the stone's power." Herwald interrupted, his tone tight, laced with an excitement that couldn't be defined "That's how it's able to bypass all the laws of the natural world…"

"Indeed." Flamel agreed, nodding his head, the stone still held in one hand "Akasha is the origin of all things, the source of all, if one understands the base of something, he can alter it and make it his own…" he closed his eyes reverently "However, it's still far from perfect. The human mind cannot fully incorporate the Truth, and so my mind only grasped a fragment of it, a fragment which I crafted into solid form."

"And thus the stone was born." Herwald revealed, his eyes glancing to the legendary Alchemical Enhancer reverently "And that's why you and Perenelle went into hiding. If word got out you'd gotten a glimpse of Akasha, those vultures at the Magus Association wouldn't have stopped with a Sealing Designation."

"I still have some powerful friends in the association." Flamel assured the boy, a wry smile on his face as he glanced at Rin "A mutual acquaintance if I'm not mistaken, it was HE who told me where to find your current residence by the way."

"Bloody Vampire…" Rin muttered, grimacing at some uncomfortable memory, even as Sakura blinked at her in confusion "Still, that doesn't explain why you're here? If Dumbledore believes the stone was destroyed, then you could disappear and no-one would bother to look for you!"

"That was my intention until I received Herwald's letter." Flamel admitted, glancing back at the boy, his features firm yet concerned "When I read what REALLY happened to the false stone I set out to find you immediately. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about."

"I do." Herwald admitted, smiling softly, a grim, self-mocking little smirk even as he gripped his right arm with his left, the others looking at him in concern "At first I thought it was just the restrictions Dumbledore placed on me, but even after Rin-san unblocked them, my control's been shot to hell, to the point I don't dare attempt transmutation or activating my arrays." He smiled grimly "Hell, I don't dare risk reinforcement."

"Let me see." Flamel insisted, his tone firm yet kind, like a parent asking a child to reveal an injury, Herwald stepping forward and partially removing his shirt, allowing the aged Alchemist to place his hand on his back, a feeling of warmth spreading through him as the man's prana entered his body. "Quite the ingenious array formation…" he applauded, his brow furrowing in scholarly intrigue "VERY complex, though I don't approve of it being applied for combat purposes."

"They were created so that I could protect someone precious to me." Herwald replied, refusing to acknowledge the Einzbern's intentions for the arrays even if he knew the truth "Not being able to use them has been…terrible."

"I assume it would." Flamel agreed, his tone understanding, only to frown as he pushed his prana a litte deeper into the boy's body, the warmth suddenly encountering a counter that caused Herwald to jump at the contact "It's as I feared…" Flamel sighed, looking at the boy sadly "When you used your array to destroy the false stone's physical form, it was reduced to a liquid base, which then entered your body through the wounds you received in the explosion."

"The stone's…inside him?" Rin exclaimed, looking alarmed at the prospect, a sentiment she shared with Sakura and Shirou, the latter of whom's fists clenched in alarm as they eyed the younger boy "Is it dangerous?"

"If left unchecked? Yes." Flamel admitted, his tone grim as he gripped the REAL stone in his free hand, the gem lighting up as he pumped prana into it "Don't move, Herwald, this might sting a little but you'll be alright."

* * *

_Herwald's POV..._

Before Herwald could respond, there was a flash of light behind his eyeballs and then he was spiralling into darkness, the other's cries of alarm fading as he fell. When he awoke, it was to find his head in Sakura's lap, the plum haired girl stroking his long black bangs out of his face. "Welcome back." Flamel's voice greeted, the alchemist sitting seiza style, sipping a cup of green tea offered by Shirou, his brown overcoat gone and the sleeves of his dress-shirt rolled up to the elbow "Glad to see you're still with us, how do you feel?"

"Like Scheiße…" Herwald muttered, earning a chuckle from the man as he sat up, surprised to find his whole body felt like it had been filled with lead. "The Hölle?"

"Don't worry about the stiffness, it should wear off in a while." Flamel assured him "I had to alter your blood vessels and internal organ somewhat to better accommodate the power of the liquefied stone remains that integrated with your bloodstream."

"Explains why my insides feel like someone moved them around…" Herwald noted, chuckling weakly until he coughed from the strain "Couldn't you have removed it?"

"That would've been too risky." Flamel countered grimly "Even if it WAS a forgery, it was still possessed a fraction of the real Stone's power. If I'd attempted to remove it with Alchemy, the chain reaction…" he paused with a grimace "Needless to say it wouldn't have been a pleasant experience."

"I can imagine…" Herwald muttered, looking uncomfortable as he imagined going through ANOTHER explosion, only this time he doubted he'd survive it, seeing as HE'D be the one blowing up, even as he looked at his hands "So what now? Will I be able to use Alchemy again?"

"In time, yes." Flamel admitted, pushing his glasses up as he spoke "Though it will be harder to control thanks to the enhancing properties of the false stone in your blood. Even simple transmutations will have a greater effect than what you intended, it could take a lifetime to gain complete control…on your own."

Herwald blinked, looking up at the older alchemist as he set his teacup aside, turning to face the boy head on, with a serious expression on his face. "I have seen many things in my time, Herwald von Einzbern." He declared "I've seen the rise and fall of empires, wars that tore the world apart. I've watched Magus and Mundanes alike slaughter themselves for something as insignificant as material wealth and power." He looked at the boy, only to smile "So when I see something that catches me by surprise, I think you can understand why I can't just leave it alone. I would like to offer you a position as my apprentice."

Rin choked, Shirou's eyes widening while Sakura gasped in shock, Herwald simply staring at the ancient alchemist in disbelief. To be chosen by Nicholas Flamel himself, even for something as simple as catching the man's interest, was something any Alchemical student DREAMT of, a dream Herwald had never entertained because he doubted the man would be interested in a 'stray'.

"I don't make this offer lightly, Herwald." Flamel assured the boy "You have a sharp mind, and judging from what Albus has told me, a desire to use Alchemy for good, though you had no desire to use the stone to do so." He smiled at the boy "That alone tells me you're different from Albus and Jubstacheit, Albus would have used it for the 'greater good' while Jubstacheit would ave used it to further his own agendas. To find someone who WASN'T interested in the stone outside of scholarly intrigue in these times is…heartening."

Herwald blushed, unable to say anything in the face of the Flamel's words. Truth be told he couldn't have cared less about the stone, outside the usual, scholarly interest any Alchemist would possess, but that was because he had other priorities than eternal life and wealth. What was the point of living forever if you had to watch your loved ones die…

"Ilya!" he exclaimed, his emerald eyes widening in alarm as he tried to stand, only for his treacherous legs to give out half-way, only Shirou catching him before he fell saving him from crashing face-first into the floor "Mr Flamel, could you possibly-!"

"He already did." Shirou interrupted, and for the first time Herwald noted the look of stress on the elder boy's face was gone, his ochre eyes swimming with unshed tears of joy "He took a look at her while you were recovering…I don't know what he did, but he fixed her, Ilya's going to be okay."

Herwald blinked, unable to believe, yet wanting nothing more than to do so, turning to look at the Tohsaka siblings, who nodded, Sakura's eyes bright with relieved tears, even Rin looking a little shook up as she nodded in confirmation. He turned his attention to Flamel, who smiled kindly.

"All life is precious, regardless of its origin." The ancient Alchemist replied kindly, his golden eyes shining "Human or homunculus it doesn't matter, all things deserve the chance to live without needing someone else to define their existence for them."

Herwald couldn't help it, all the pent up anger and frustration at his inability to do anything just suddenly chose that moment to release itself, the boy-who-lived choking as tears of joy streamed down his cheeks, hugging an equally moved Shirou with his leaden arms, looking up at Flamel in gratitude "Can I see her?"

"She's sleeping at the moment." The Ancient Alchemist assured the boy "A night's rest and she'll be as good as new, better even, now that whatever was draining her soul has been removed." He smiled kindly "However, I see no reason why you can't join her…you've had a long day yourself. We can continue our discussion later."

Herwald thanked the older Alchemist, a weak, grateful smile on his face as he asked Shirou to help him up, the redhead escorting him down the hall to the room Ilya occupied, Flamel asking for another cup of tea from an all-to-eager Sakura.

They passed Rider on the way, the Gorgon smiling at the pair kindly, opening the door to the room where a joyfully sobbing Sella was being comforted by a beaming Leysritt, the two maids bowing politely as the brothers made their way to their sister's side, smiling down at her gentle sleeping features, her complexion already turning to its normal snow-white, and her breathing slow and easy once again. "I thought we'd lost her…" Herwald croaked, reaching out to touch one smooth cheek, running the backs of his knuckles softly against her once again flawless pale skin "I never felt so helpless…"

"I have…" Shirou replied, his tone grim, though laced with pride "But it's because of people like Dad and Flamel-san that we're still here, people who know when to do the right thing."

"A hero." Herwald finished, an honest smile tracing his features as he gazed down at the slumbering form of his sister, once again thankful for whatever twist of fate crossed his path with Emiya Kiritsugu's that fateful November night.

And somewhere out there, beyond the Root of the World and the Throne of Heroes, a lonely man whose beliefs had caused him nothing but despair, smiled along with the sons he'd left behind.

* * *

Kyugan: And that is that.

Heavy: WAAAAAAAH UWAAAAH!

Medic: There, there mein friend...here, blow your nose.

Heavy: Thank you doktor... *blows nose, LOUDLY*

Sniper: I tip my 'at to you mate, that was...that was a beauty that was...

Demoman: Och, now thas how a fable ends.

Scout: It was cool, for something written by a lamebrain.

Prio: MMHMHMHMHMHMPPM!

Engineer: Now that right there, is a thing of beauty.

Kyugan: I know, I know, here's hoping the Sequel's as well liked.

R&R!


End file.
